


The Courtship of Boars and Dragons

by disastergays



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd Needs a Hug, Fluff, High-key god byleth, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male My Unit | Byleth, Mutilation, Post-Canon, Scandalous hand-holding, Trans Male Character, We were robbed of dragon byleth damnit, a couple of events in the game happened slightly different here, also canon has officially left the chat, also vaguely an au, byleth trying to figure out how the fuck to be a human, dimitri managing his ptsd, happy ending I promise, it needs its own tag y'all, the lions love byleth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 198,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22474702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disastergays/pseuds/disastergays
Summary: With the five year war finally over, peace has returned to Fodlan.The land aches from the aftermath of the war, even as King Dimitri works tirelessly to restore the country to it's past beauty. Though, he is not alone. With the support of his dear friends, and his beloved Archbishop, Dimitri finds the load to be just a bit lighter to carry.Romance is never an easy path, and relationships require work. As the nature of what Byleth truly is slowly begins to unfurl, a darkness blooms with it.Dimitri wonders, if it is still alright to love a god.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 551
Kudos: 1010





	1. Lessons in Love Letters

**Author's Note:**

> “Sounds like a lot of work.”
> 
> Dimitri set his cup down and leaned back in the oak chair, “It is, but it is work that must be done all the same.”
> 
> “Do not overexert yourself, Dedue already frets over you as it is. You’re aging him by years each passing day, at this rate he’ll look like Hanneman by the end of next week.”

It was time.

It was far, _far_ past time, really.

Dimitri climbed the stairs to the second floor of the dormitory. He had long since ceased living here, and yet he was rarely away for very long. As was the case with most of the other Blue Lions, and even some students from other houses their dear Professor convinced to join his class.

Years ago, one of his most trusted knights and friends, had told him when it came to manners of the heart, he would help Dimitri. While he certainly had taken long enough to get there, Dimitri finally decided he was going to court the Professor.

Trouble was… He wasn't sure where to start.

He had so many ideas, so many options laid barren before him, yet… None seemed right, or had too great a risk to go poorly.

Hence, why he stood outside of Sylvain’s room just as the sun started to crest the horizon.

Dimitri only hesitated briefly before knocking. The sound echoed in the otherwise silent hall, and the man couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious. Had he been too loud?

He heard sounds from within the room, two voices, both sleep-ridden and groggy.

Ah, Felix must had spent the night.

After some choice language (from Felix, no doubt), the door opened to reveal Sylvain, clad only in sleepwear and absently rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes.

“Your Majesty?”

“Dimitri,” He corrected idly, then continued, “I am sorry to wake you, but there is something I need your help with.”

That seemed to wake the man up enough for him to open the door further and step aside, “Is everything alright? Danger?”

“Ah, no.” Dimitri felt wholly out of place standing in a room with a half dressed man, and his _also_ likely half dressed lover.

“Then what's the matter? Ya look pretty damn nervous,” Sylvian yawned, and sat down on the edge of his bed, gesturing to the desk on the other side of his room.

When Dimitri didn't move, Sylvain grunted, “Take a seat, you standing in the middle of the room is weird.”

After a brief moment of hesitation, Dimitri pulled the chair from the desk and faced toward Sylvain and the lump under the blankets he had no doubt was Felix.

“I… I wish to court our former professor.” He admitted upon finally sitting down.

A pale hand shot out from the mountain of sheets, an open palm followed by a dry, “You owe me 100 gold.”

“Hey, shut it, I’m not out of the running yet you ass,” Sylvain hissed, then beamed at Dimitri, “About damn time though, seriously.”

“Pardon?”

Sylvain stretched his arms behind his head, “Oh please, like it’s any secret. With all due respect your Majesty, you are not a subtle man.”

Dimitri had thought he was doing well keeping his favor for the professor tucked away. Had he truly been so obvious? Did Byleth already know of his intentions? Did the man not say anything because such desires were not returned? Perhaps he should leave it as it is, his friendship with Byleth was something he treasured wholly and dearly.

To lose that in pursuit of romantic intentions… Dimitri could not even bare the thought.

“-majesty, ugh, _Dimitri._ ”

The sound of his name brought him back from his spiraling thoughts. Right. He was in Sylvain’s room.

“Hey, welcome back.”

Dimitri rubbed the back of his neck, “My apologies.”

Sylvain waved him off, and leaned back on his hands, “So, as I was _saying,_ Byleth is very dense. He’s probably totally ignorant to your feelings toward him.”

“He’s not dense-”

Sylvain held up a hand to cut him off, “Oh _yes_ he is. When it comes to emotional stuff? Absolutely. He is a damn genius of a tactician on the battlefield, but in manners of the heart? As useless as you, maybe moreso.”

“Unlikely,” Felix groused from the blankets.

Neither of the two paid him any mind, Sylvain rubbed his chin, “So, what do you want to do? Sweep our dear professor off his feet? Wax poetic about the color of his eyes?”

“I… I was thinking of writing a letter.”

Sylvain stared at him, no readable expression plastered on his face, “A… _Letter?_ ”

“Yes. I could write what I desire to say to him, so that I do not fumble over the words and make a fool of myself. If he accepts my feelings, we would court.”

With a rustle of fabric, Felix’s head emerged from the cocoon he had so carefully constructed for himself. His hair was down and disheveled, it brought Dimitri back to when they were younger. Felix was never much of an early riser.

“You want to write a _love letter?_ ” While phrased as a question, Dimitri could tell it was meant as a statement.

“Yes.”

Felix groaned and rolled his eyes, though was silenced when Sylvain patted the side of his face, “Alright… I can work with that. A love letter, eh? How delightfully romantic, oh the girls will _love_ this.”

“ _Do not_ tell anyone else.”

Sylvian shrugged, “I gotta, promised I’d clue them in if something was starting to brew between you two. Besides, we all want to help, I can help you write the letter, and hell, I can even deliver it for ya, then we’d wait for Byleth’s response.

Dimitri heaved a sigh, and dragged a hand down his face. 

Alright. 

Fine. 

So long as he was the one to deliver the truth of his feelings to Byleth, then… He could deal with it. Not like there wouldn't have been whispers about them anyway.

Not like there hasn't _already_ been talk about them.

* * *

“No, start over. That's shit.”

“I have not yet written one sentence, Felix.”

The man leaned over the back of Dimitri’s chair and took the paper from beneath his quill, crumpled it up, then tossed it aside.

“It was awful.”

Sylvian scooped the crumpled attempt and pursed his lips, “Well, Felix isn't exactly wrong.”

“I didn't write anything other than to whom I was addressing the letter to!”

“That’s the problem you stupid boar, Byleth has not been our professor for years, you have to stop calling him by that. _Especially_ when you are confessing your love for him.”

Byleth.

The name sounded foreign in his head, a forbidden word he was not permitted to speak. After all he had done, did he really have the right to call the professor by his name? It felt… Wrong, to not give the man the proper respect he deserved. He supposed archbishop would be more proper, perhaps he should address him as such instead.

The moment he started writing _‘Dearest archbishop’,_ the paper was taken away and crumpled once more.

“Thats worse.”

Dimitri suppressed the urge to shout at Felix, and instead, spoke evenly, “Why is nothing I write good enough?”

“You're addressing Byleth as a title, an entity, not a goddess damn _person._ ”

“I do not understand.”

Felix groaned, threw his hands up in exasperation and left his post behind the king to sit on the bed instead. Sylvain chuckled, and took his lover’s place behind Dimitri.

“I know what he’s getting at,” Sylvain smiled, “Tell me, _your Majesty,_ why does it bother you when people address you by your proper title, even in casual situations such as this?”

Dimitri shot him a short glare, “I am more than my title, and you are my friend. There is no reason to treat me like I’m better than- _Oh._ ”

“There ya go, now you're getting it.”

Embarrassment at his hypocrisy tickled the back of his neck. He had never stopped to consider the prof- no, _Byleth’s_ feelings when others addressed him by the proper titles…. Himself included. 

He grabbed a blank sheet of paper, and tried again.

_‘Dearest Byleth…’_

* * *

Never before had the weight of something so light, feel so, so heavy. 

The simple, unassuming, scroll clutched delicately between his hands carried the weight of Dimitri’s heart within. What was worse, was that the professor - Byleth - could be nigh impossible to track down on days he was not at the cathedral leading the faithful, or organizing knights to keep his den and those around it, safe.

Irritation began to get the best of him as he climbed the stairs to the second floor of the monastery. He made a beeline down the hall to the captain of the guard’s quarters. Once belonging to Jeralt, Alois now took up residence as the captain. 

Dimitri was there when Byleth appointed Alois as the new captain, after the war had finally ended. The man cried at having such an honour bestowed upon him, and swore his fealty to Byleth and the church.

Byleth was completely taken aback at the man’s emotions, though Dimitri remembered fondly the way the professor - _Byleth_ \- tried to consol the sobbing knight. It made for quite a sight, a man with face bare of emotions, trying desperately to figure out why someone he cared about was crying.

Just as he had hoped, Alois was slumped over his desk, one hand tangled in messy brown hair, the other with a quill in hand, scouring over whatever paperwork had been laid before him.

Alois glanced up when Dimitri made his entrance, then returned his focus to his paperwork for a brief moment. Then, as if he suddenly realized who was before him, the man jumped to his feet and made a hasty bow, “Y-your Majesty! What are you doing here? A-Ah I mean, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Relax, I only came to ask where the pro- where Byleth is.”

“Oh? Archbishop Byleth is probably in the wyvern stables or tending to the lily pads on the third floor. Is there an emergency we must be prepared for?”

“No, nothing of the sort,” Dimitri bowed his head, “Thank you, I will be on my way.”

Since he was there anyway, Dimitri decided to check the third floor first. As luck would have it, when he reached the last step to be met with Cathrine, he knew Byleth was here.

She seemed bewildered he had come, but did not seem too troubled, “He’s on the balcony.” 

“Thank you,” He nodded once as he passed the knight.

The sight of the monastery from the balcony was beautiful. There, it almost felt as if he could see all of Fodlan. The air was crisp, but unlike his kingdom to the north, the air lacked the bitter chill he had grown to love.

Still, it was breathtaking all the same. 

Byleth was kneeling by one of two small ponds that decorated the outcropping. A soft chuff from the wyvern perched on the stone railing spurred the man to glance up from his position. 

“Dimitri.” While his tone was even and unassuming, Dimitri felt a surge of pride at the faint smile that ghosted the man’s lips. He was happy to see him.

Had he been anyone else, they would have been far more careful in their approach. Wyverns were known for being protective over their masters, a deep bond formed between the dragon and rider that was scarcely understood, but respected all the same.

Still, he trusted Dagur, and in turn, the dragoness honored him with the same. He had saved her life just a few short years ago, and they waited together, in a way, for the return of the man before them. 

“I… have something for you.”

Byleth approached and took the letter when presented with it. He turned the unaddressed scroll over in his hands, likely bewildered at the lack of a sender, or anything indicating its intended receiver.

“What is it?”

“Its… ah… It's for you,” he repeated as the courage once felt drained from his veins.

Byleth nodded and began to open the sealed paper, fear overcame him like the coward he was, and he cleared his throat.

“I must be off, if it pleases you, I’d - I mean, the _sender_ would like to know your response at your earliest convenience.”

“Aren't you the one who wrote-”

Dimitri was out of range of Byleth’s even voice before the man could finish his sentence. Catherine raised a brow at him as he descended down the stairs without a word, he could practically feel her eyes boring holes into his back.

Now, he just had to wait.

* * *

When a week passed and no response was given, Dimitri accepted his feelings for Byleth were not returned. 

It stung, a deep pain settled into his heart akin to a thorn. He doubted he’s ever be free of it’s barb, but Byleth was first and foremost his dearest friend. And he would not let his own petty feelings for the man stop him from being there for him.

So, he continued as usual.

He had been in the middle of packing the few belongings he brought with him to the monsitary when there was a knock on the door. He frowned, he was needed back at the capital, a small city just north of his land was being invaded by thieves left and right, he was called to defend the allied territory and save them from bandits.

Still, he paused his preparations and opened the door.

He had expected Dedue, or perhaps one of his knights, but instead, Annette stood before him, her face pink and beaming.

“Your Majesty!”

“Dimitri.”

“Right, right. Dimitri, here, I ran as fast as I could. I’m glad I was able to reach you before you left.”

She handed him a scroll, no sender, no recipient.

His heart jumped to his throat. Hope blossomed from the thorn inside him, he thanked Annette absently and closed the door once she left.

Dimitri drew in a breath for courage, and slowly unfurled the paper. On it, a single scribbled word.

_‘Thanks.’_

Dimitri slumped on his bed, staring at the paper. 

That was it? Just… Thanks?

Dimitri had poured his very soul out in that letter, he had written things he could never have said to Byleth. He… He had given his heart with that letter.

Only for Byeth to toss it aside and send it back to him, dry and broken.

As much as he craved it, Dimitri couldn't bring himself to rip the letter apart. 

Time evaded him as he sat on the edge of his bed, staring down at the single loathsome word. He had promised himself that even if Byleth were to reject his feelings, he’d still remain by his side until death did they part.

Yet… 

The apathy, the sheer lack of care the single word gave… It hurt him to his core, it angered him. Had the professor simply told him his feelings were not returned, he felt as though he could accept that. But _this,_ this stung.

A heavy knock sounded at his door, and Dimirti snarled before he could stop himself, “Leave me.”

The door opened anyway, and Dimitri turned on his intruder, but his anger simmered and died upon seeing Dedue standing in the doorway.

“Your Majesty, it is time to depart.”

Yes, of course.

He was more than his love for Byleth, he was a king. He had a duty to his people, no matter how much he himself hurt, he could not let others suffer just because he was. He was no longer that man, no longer that selfish beast.

“What troubles you?”

“It is nothing Dedue, trivial nonsense,” He muttered as he stood and folded the letter up to stuff in his bag.

Dimitri was both irritated and pleased when Dedue casually reached over his shoulder to grab the letter from his hands. The man had relaxed significantly since Dimitri’s ascension to the throne, and while he was still adamant on being Dimitri’s vassal, he was also a friend.

“Is this Byleth’s response?” The man seemed bewildered as he turned the paper over, as if expecting something more to be written on the other side.

“You knew about the letter I wrote?”

“Of course,” Dedue dismissed, then handed the letter back with a frown, “I believe there is a misu-”

“Dedue,” Dimitri was swift to cut him off, he did not desire to chase after the archbishop like a lost puppy. He loved the man, he doubted that would ever change, but he was not going to let himself have false hope.

His feelings were not returned, plain and simple. 

He was a grown man, he would not die from rejection.

Dedue fell silent, while clear the man had more to say, he kept such thoughts to himself. Dimirti grabbed his belongings and stepped past Dedue into the hall, they needed to leave. His sulking had cost them precious time, and Dimitri would not have any more blood on his hands.

Normally, Dimitri would stop to inform Byleth of his departure, but he… He couldn't face the man now. He’d return, he always did, but he allowed himself to be selfish just this once, and leave without speaking to him.

As he mounted his horse, and began the journey back to his homeland, he glanced over his shoulder at the balcony jutting out from the monastery. Byeth was nowhere to be seen, but his wyvern perched on the stone.

Shame pricked down his spine as the dragoness stared down at him from utop the railing, her yellow eyes seemed to look right through him.

He shook it off, and led the march out. He was imagining things.

* * *

Weeks passed, the bandits dealt with, Dimitri returned to the capital. 

Evening brought a fierce chill over the land, though his fur cloak was enough to keep him warm. He leaned against the decorated railing of his castle, gazing over Fhirdiad and the land beyond it. The sun cast the horizon in a beautiful warm glow.

He had duties to attend to, but imagined he’d probably return to Garreg Mach in a few months. 

Dimitri never was away for too long.

While not necessarily asking to not be disturbed, it had become an unspoken request to leave him to himself when evening descended. So when knocks fell upon his bedroom door, Dimirti was quick to answer, expecting an emergency.

Instead, it was Dedue.

That man did not appear to be overly distressed, but tension still laced his muscles as he bowed before him, “I apologize for disturbing you.”

Dimitri stepped aside and allowed the man to enter his room, “What happened?”

“Nothing pressing, a letter came for you.”

The king gratefully took the scroll from him, and unfurled the paper. His brows furrowed as he read over the sentence within.

_‘I apologize for upsetting you, I am not very good at writing letters.’_

There was no sender, but Dimitri could recognize that messy scrawl anywhere. His heart ached at his previous behavior, of course Byleth never meant him harm. Dimitri had acted like a child, he owed the Archbishop an apology.

He rolled the paper back up and sighed, he felt writing another letter back would be fruitless. Guess he would be paying a visit to the monisarty earlier than anticipated. Alas, he would be unable to make the journey for another fortnight at best. He still needed to review taxes and visit smaller villages to learn of ways to better support his people.

As much as he wanted to return right away, he had to put his people before his own desires. A true King saw to those he was sworn to protect first, before ever thinking of himself.

* * *

Nearly two months passed before Dimitri returned to the Garreg Mach.

The spring rains were in full form, pattering against stone and metal alike. It was cold, the rain soaked to the bone, but it was much needed. The land had something of a minor drought, he had learned. The crops undoubtedly would flourish this year.

Upon dismounting his horse, he was greeted with the sight of none other than the Archbishop himself. 

“Dimitri,” The man nodded his head once, a greeting.

The king passed the reigns of his gelding off to one of the stablehands and approached Byleth. He hoped his smile seemed more genuine than forced.

“Archbishop Byleth,” Dimitri bowed, “It is nice to see you again.”

When he glanced back up, he searched for some sort of emotion within Byleth’s eyes. Slitted green held his gaze evenly, they lacked the usual spark or warmth the had grown accustomed to. 

Furrowing his brows, Dimitri took a moment to actually look over his dearest friend. The man seemed to be at a healthy weight, not favoring any limbs - unharmed. Yet there was this slowness to him, an exhaustion Dimitri was all too familiar with.

There were the beginnings of dark circles beneath his eyes, and Dimitri knew the man was not sleeping.

“I… Have not had tea in a while, if you are free I would greatly enjoy sharing news over a cup.”

That seemed to break whatever daze the Archbishop had fallen into, he straightened, nodded, and turned on his heel. Dimitri was quick to follow the unspoken invitation.

* * *

The rain pelted against the glass and stone around them. It was a comforting sound, much more so now that he was dry and far less cold.

Dimitri brought the steaming cup to his lips, and took a sip. Fondness warmed his body when he realized the professor - Archbishop - _Byleth,_ had brewed chamomile. While he couldn't taste it per se, he could feel the way it brought ease to his body, and the gentle aroma had always been a source of comfort.

“Dimitri,” Byleth’s voice brought Dimitri from his thoughts, he met the other man’s gaze.

“Yes?”

“I… I do apologize, in the letter I wr-”

Dimitri set his cup down with a fair bit more force than he had intended. The plate buckled and cracked beneath the cup, but thankfully, did not shatter.

“ _Don't._ Ah- I mean,” He sighed, “It is fine, please, just leave the subject be. I do not wish to discuss it anymore.”

“But-”

“Please Professor, _Byleth._ Just forget about the letter.”

Byleth’s brows furrowed, and his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Something clearly troubled him for the man to emote so much, but Dimitri dismissed it. They were friends, and he knew Byleth _did_ care for him, even if just platonically. Of course he would worry about hurting him.

Dimitri let tea wash over his tongue before speaking again, “Lets just go back to how it was before, alright? No hard feelings, just pretend it never happened.”

His words only seemed to frustrate the other man further. 

But, as he had requested, the subject was dropped. Instead, Dimitri took the lead in the conversation, talking about things as important as news between their territories, to absolute nonsense that no one but them would surely care about.

It was nice. 

A step back to how things once were.

* * *

Dimitri made his way past the dining hall when he heard hushed voices arguing. He recognized them as his former classmates, and was quick to find them, worried.

“How was I supposed to know that’d be what he wrote?” Ingrid’s voice was laced with frustration, hackles raised in self defence at the other two women frowning at her.

“I know, I know,” Mercedes soothed, and placed a delicate hand upon an armored shoulder, “I just don't understand why he went to you of all people for advice.”

“He seemed so confident when he handed it to me,” Annette added wistfully, twirling a bit of red between her fingers.

“He went to Felix as well y’know,” Ingrid grumbled, “Catherine and Alois too, I think.”

Annette scrubbed a hand down her face, “No wonder it was such a disaster.”

Mercedes’s gentle laugh chimed off the walls of the hall they had tucked themselves away in.

“Honestly, it isn't really our business,” Ingrid’s frown led Dimitri to believe she only partly believed what she spoke.

“Yeah, but they're our friends, and they’ve been through so much… They deserve to be happy.”

Dimitri kept walking, he was not a stupid man, he knew _exactly_ what they were discussing. 

He could only hope everything would blow over in the coming months.

* * *

Dimitri wasn't one for singing, he didn't have the best ability to carry a tune. It just… Wasn't something he could really do, though he appreciated choir well enough. 

Honestly, the only reason he attended was to listen, not sing.

And maybe he liked being able to pick out Byleth’s gentle dulcets over the cacophony of other voices. 

Maybe he found the man’s voice soothing.

On most days he led the faithful in song, Byleth would wait until the last person left the cathedral before he disappeared to do… whatever he did. However, the chilly spring morning seemed to be different. Once the songs came to an end, Byleth excused himself almost immediately.

Dimitri wanted nothing more than to follow the man, but he elected not to. If Byleth was in a hurry, he didn't want to slow him down. They’d meet up for tea later in the afternoon, he could always inquire then.

* * *

“I can not _believe_ you two, of all the things… ”

Seteth’s voice carried when the man wanted it to. Dimitri wondered what poor sods got themselves under his ire, and thanked the goddess he was not one of them.

“In my defense, that shit is way out of my usual mission objective.”

“You're _married,_ Cathrine.”

“Yeah, what of it?”

Dimitri was very, _very_ thankful to the goddess for keeping him out of Seteth’s sights.

He climbed the stairs as Seteth’s and Cathrine’s arguments faded under stone steps. By the time he reached the archbishop’s room, or well, Byleth’s room, the man was already seated with two cups set out.

There was a new, uncracked, plate under the porcelain he had used last time. He should find a way to make that up to him.

“Smells wonderful, I hope I wasn't keeping you long?”

“No.”

Dimitri nodded, and served himself from the pot between them.

“Seteth is giving Cathrine an earful downstairs,” He chuckled, “I wonder what she did to gain his ire.”

“She breathed,” Byleth hummed.

Dimitri laughed behind the rim of his cup, “That’d do it, I suppose. They never did get along much.”

“Still don’t,” Byleth noted, a faint edge of humour in his tone.

They were natural opposites, though even through the constant bickering, Dimitri could tell they’d fight for the other to their last breath. Much like Manuela and Hanneman, in a way.

“I will have to return to Faehgrus before this month passes, with the rains coming in full force, we must take precautions against flooding, especially of our crops.”

Byleth grunted, so Dimitri continued.

“The school of sorcery has also requested more funding, they wish to rebuild their library after much had been burnt away during the war. There’s also the usual political meetings that must be held, settling disputes between minor lords, and making sure everyone has food on their table. Not to mention going south to help the old Empire’s territory recover from the war, much of their land is blood soaked. It will not be easy to heal.”

“Sounds like a lot of work.”

Dimitri set his cup down and leaned back in the oak chair, “It is, but it is work that must be done all the same.”

“Do not overexert yourself, Dedue already frets over you as it is. You’re aging him by years each passing day, at this rate he’ll look like Hanneman by the end of next week.”

The snort that escaped Dimitri’s lips was wholly unflattering, but it was worth nearly choking on his own saliva for the sly grin Byleth graced him with.

Sometimes, Dimitri forgot how cheeky his professor could be.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

* * *

“What is your favorite flower?”

Dimitri didn't think he would ever truly get used to Byleth sneaking up on him. He finished adjusting the straps of his horse’s saddle before responding.

“Forget-me-nots, probably,” He considered, then turned to raise a brow at his dearest friend, “Why?”

“So I know which flowers to grow for when you return.”

Sure, Dimitri knew that was said with purely platonic intention, but goddess he was still a _man._ The rapid fluttering in his chest was largely ignored, “Oh, well, thank you. But truly, it is not necessary-”

“Yes it is.”

Dimitri opened his mouth, then closed it. He wasn't sure what Byleth was planning, but ultimately he decided that since he had deemed it important, Dimitri would give respect as such and nod along.

* * *

“How are construction efforts in Enbarr?”

“Fine, many citizens are having trouble adjusting to the new rule,” Ingrid supplied, her gaze trailing down a scroll she had received from one of her corriours, “Many are confused, and do not understand what came to pass. However, there has not been as much unrest within the capital as expected. The people are tired, they’ve fought for far too long.”

“I can imagine,” Dimitri sighed, “Allow the people to have full say in how their homes are rebuilt, it is the least that can be done. I do not wish to erase their history.”

“Understood,” With a twirl of green, Ingrid descended down the steps of the throne room and left Dimitri to his own thoughts.

The alliance had been far easier to rebuild, many were thankful for coming to their rescue when the Andrastian Empire invaded. The empire itself though… Has been far more challenging. They do not bear the same gratitude as the alliance, Edelgard was many things, but she _had_ been a good Emperor.

Many of her people mourned her death.

Yet even still, they did seem content to no longer fight a never ending war.

Dimitri had not returned to the Empire since he had killed his step-sister. He could not bear to return to the place, not yet. Senselessly had he killed so many of their people, some not even soldiers, but just bore a red crest that justified his bloodlust at the time.

They were his people now, but he had killed so many, could he really be the king they deserved? When their blood still stained his hands?

“Your Majesty.”

Dimitri pulled his head from his hands, “Dedue?”

“It is time for dinner, come, you must eat.”

“Ah, right.”

The food before him was, objectively, better prepared and suited for his needs than the dining hall at the Monastery. Yet he found himself eating alone more and more frequently. Dedue was a constant, occasionally Felix, Sylvian, or Ingrid would dine with him as well.

More often than not though, he sat largely alone at the end of a table far too long for a single man.

He missed dining with friends.

* * *

“Dedue, could-”

Dimitri’s voice petered off when he found his friend hunched over his desk, scribbling feverishly on some scroll. The man jolted, and instinctively moved a hand to cover what he was writing, smudging the fresh ink as he did. 

“Your Majesty, how may I be of service?”

“You might want to rewrite that,” Dimitri chuckled, and leaned on the doorframe of Dedue’s private quarters.

It had been a hassle to convince his friend he deserved to have a private place of his own, one where he could relax and rest at ease. For a while, it was bare. A bed, a desk, a bookshelf, nothing frivolous or anything to make it Dedue’s own.

As time passed, things slowly were added. A Duscar shield hung above his desk, some of the shelves had spices and books written in his native tongue, his bedding changed to what was common among his people. 

It was a lot more colorful, and Dimitri was pleased.

Dedue lifted his hand to find ink smudged over his palm and scowled, “Ah.”

“I will not pry, but I have to say, I do not recall you _ever_ looking so concentrated on a letter before.”

The only response he received was a grunt, “What is it that you needed?”

“Nothing of import, I assure you, I simply came by to ask if you’d be free to spar.”

Dedue pushed himself to his feet and rolled up the paper, then tucked it into the first drawer on his desk, “Of course.”

“You can finish the letter first, you know.”

“It will still be there when I return.”

* * *

The following week, when Dimitri approached the dining table to eat (once again, at Dedue’s request) he found himself frozen at the sight before him.

The table was far from empty.

Felix, Sylvain, Ingrid, they all sat there, chatting away much like old times. Mercedes and Annette sat beside Ingrid, chiming in occasionally on the conversation the three had, until Sylvain said something undoubtedly crass and Felix elbowed his lover.

Even still, Ashe was there, as were many of his previous academy friends. Caspar, Dorethia, Petra, _flames,_ even Hilda and Claude were there.

So many old friends had gathered around the table, what had spurred this event?

“Well, well, if it ain't the man of the hour!” Claude stood and rose a tankard into the air, “‘Bout time, if ya took any longer we were going to start without you.”

“It's been a while, Claude,” Was all Dimitri could think to say, stunned into silence by the sight of his old friends.

“Sure has, now sit down so we can eat! I’m starving, Fhirdiad’s cold is not kind to someone like me, y’know.”

Dimitri wordlessly took a seat, Dedue followed suit to an empty chair and plate just to his right.

Even with his poor taste, surrounded by those he grew to care for and cherish, the food served that night was the most delicious he ever had.

As evening fell, and merriment was in full form, Dimitri slunk from the table and finally decided to inquire to Claude, “Why are you here?”

“What, can’t pop in on your Kingliness from time to time?”

“Of course you can, but why now? Why…” He gestured to their friends, dancing together, laughing together, many of which would undoubtedly be hungover the following morning, together, “Why with them?”

Claude grinned and leaned back against the cool stone, “Had it on good authority you were getting kinda lonely up in your castle here. Thought we could break in and give you some headaches.”

“... Dedue wrote you?”

“Nah, though I think the idea stemmed from him. Good ol’ teach rounded us up and ushered us to come visit you,” A fond smile etched into his features, “Not that we really needed convincing.”

Why would Byleth have them dine with him? While far from complaining, it seemed… Odd, for the man to schedule a reunion and not show up himself. Still, it touched him to think that his dearest friend would go out of his way for him like this.

“Oh! I nearly forgot,” Claude pulled a scroll from beneath his embroidered cloak, “Got a little gift for ya.”

“What is it?” Dimitri turned the scroll over, attached to it was a small leather pouch, neither were addressed.

“A surprise,” Claude winked and nudged Dimitri towards the ballroom their friends had migrated to, “Open it later though, I promised to make you have fun tonight, and I do not break my promises.”

Claude did just that. Finally, at the latest hours of the night, Dimitri slunk to his private quarters, exhausted, but genuinely happy. The first time he had felt such in quite a long time. He forgot how much his friends meant to him. He’d be sure to organize gatherings like that more frequently, of his own accord this time.

Dimitri hung his robe up, and remembered a weight he had been carrying for much of the evening. He pulled the scroll from his jacket, and set it on his desk as he finished undressing. When in his small clothes, he gently scooped the paper back up and delicately unfurled the paper.

_‘Dimitri,_

_I do not write letters well. I had gone to seek advice on how to respond to the one you had delivered, but I misunderstood and did not write back properly. Words have never been something that come easily, spoken or otherwise, so I hope actions will suffice._

_By now, you probably are preparing to rest, so do not let me keep you much longer. But know this, you mean more to me than words will ever express. I adore you, the way you smile, how you light up when something tickles your fancy, the shy way you care for those you love. You are truly a great man, do not let your fears and doubts tell you otherwise. You are a king beyond caliber, and people love you so much more than you know._

_The people that came, every single one of them loves you. You are important, not just as a king, but as a friend, a brother in arms, and perhaps, should this letter come across as I hope; one day, a lover._

_As I promised all those months ago, I will always remain by your side._

_My father told me to give this ring to someone I love as he loved my mother. I did not understand what he meant for a long time, but now, I do._

_Love,_

_Byleth’_

Dimitri stared at the paper for far too long, reading, and rereading each word. It wasn't until wet drops stained the page, did Dimitri actually set it back down. 

He was crying.

Yet these tears were not of grief, he was so, _so_ happy. He felt so warm, so blessed to have such amazing people in his life. To have people who truly cared about him, who have stood by his side despite all that had happened.

When Dimitri unfastened the small leather pouch and emptied the content into his open palm, he was at a loss.

There, a simple silver ring. It was beautiful, delicately made, precious stones woven between the silver. He had never seen anything quite like it before, the craftsmanship was superb, yet the technique looked old. Had this belonged to his father?

The ring was too small to fit around Dimitri’s finger, so instead, he clutched the priceless gift to his chest. 

He did not deserve this love, but he would cherish it with all that he was.

Byleth deserved a proper courtship, and Dimitri would give him one fit of the Blaiddyd name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /// Finger Guns off into the sunset.
> 
> Finally took the plunge, this idea originally was a one-shot and now has taken a life of it's own is a full ass story, so, y'know, buckle up folks


	2. The Voices That Haunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh,” He sighed, “I see. That is why you followed me… It is not the same. I promise.”
> 
> “You do not have to be ashamed,” Dimitri murmured.
> 
> “I know, but it is still not the same. I am frustrated, but I am not suffering.”

Upon finally returning to the monastery, Dimitri was far from surprised to see many of his friends that has visited him in Fhirdiad, stopped by Garreg Mach on their way to their respective homes.

Ever since Byleth had taken over, the monastery and surrounding area had flourished. People were happier, trade was in full bloom, and even those who did not believe in Sothis flocked to the holy ground. It had become a safe haven, a place where _anyone_ could come and rest their weary head.

Byleth rarely talked about the Goddess herself, but the few times Dimitri had witnessed, there was this softness in his eyes rarely seen. As if speaking of an old friend, not a being beyond time itself. Funnily enough, he had a vastly different view of the Goddess than Lady Rhea, or most other churches did.

To them, the Goddess was a radiant, all knowing being. Beautiful as she was wise.

To Byleth, she seemed as if she were a sister. A snot-nosed kid that acted far too high-and-mighty for her age, but nonetheless was a kind and nurturing soul.

Dimitri wondered if Byleth ever actually did meet the Goddess, afterall, she had blessed him with power unrivaled over five years ago.

As sacreligious as it may be, Dimitri rather preferred Byleth’s take on the Goddess. She seemed more… _Real,_ an actual person, not some untouchable entity that cared less for those she supposedly watched over.

Garreg Mach blossomed in Harpstring Moon, the rains of the previous month brought out the best in crops and flora alike. Just passing through the lowered drawbridge into the market brought the sweet scent of flowers from the representatives of the eastern and western vendors.

Shadows danced over the monastery as the wyvern riders did their usual rounds. Though, given by the way one of them was doing flips and twirls, it may have been less of perimeter checks, and more of stretching wings.

A white wyvern joined the merriment in the sky, followed shortly by a few more, only for them to scatter as a deep brown wyvern approached the group. If he squinted, he could spot dark green hair on the back of the dragon. 

He hoped Seteth didn't scold the other riders too much.

It was nice to see that Claude had stopped for a visit though, Byleth was rather fond of the man. He hoped now that the former leader of the Alliance returned, they’d be able to rekindle their friendship.

The first stop, as usual, was the stables. Dimitri handed off his horse to the stablehand, giving the cream colored gelding a brief glance, before turning away.

He struggled bonding with his horse. 

After the mare he rode before the war was killed, he had trouble letting himself get attached like that again. Still, the scars of all that happened were slowly healing, perhaps he should ask Byleth what sort of name he should give him.

Two heavy thuds on the roof of the stable snapped his attention upward.

A white and a black wyvern perched on the thatch roof. Dimitri wondered how frequently wyverns landed there given the lack of panic from the steeds inside.

“Well, nice to see ya, your Kingliness.”

“Dimitri, hello.”

He stepped back and shielded his eyes from the harsh sun to better get a look at the two riders peering down at him from their perch. Claude looked smug as ever, and Byleth… As stunning as ever. The man had his hair tied back and away from his face, likely so it wouldn't get in his eyes when flying. 

It was nice to see the man’s face without it hiding beneath unkempt bangs.

Not that he was really one to talk.

Maybe he should do better at tying his hair up, he mused and brushed a stray clump of blond from his eye.

“It is great to see you both as well, and good to see Seteth is not giving you an earful, Claude.”

“Hey, teach here started it, not me. I just joined in.”

“Dagur was feeling stiff.”

Dimitri chuckled, and took a few more steps back as Dagur hopped down from the roof to the sand below. She chittered at him, her head lowered to meet his eye. Dimitri froze, a bit uncertain on how to react to the wyvern’s sudden proximity. 

Dagur chuffed and pulled back, then shifted and angled herself for Byleth to slide off unharmed. 

The man stood proud before him, a softness graced his features when he met Dimitri’s gaze. Then, his eyes trailed down and his brows furrowed. The warmth once there leaving his face.

It took a moment before he realized what Byleth had been searching his hands for. 

Dimitri was quick to assure the man by blurting out, “The ring didn't fit, I-uh, I have it here.”

He pulled the silver ring from a small pouch he had tied to his belt, concerned that Byleth wouldn't believe him. At the sight of the ring, his features smoothed to something more content, and a gentle smile eased back onto his face.

“I suppose I am not surprised, it _was_ my mother’s.”

Dimitri stared at Byleth, unsure how to respond to that. He allowed the man to take the precious gift from his hand and turn it over, mouth pursed as he studied it. After a beat, he grabbed Dimitri’s hand and placed it back into his open palm.

“It can get resized.”

“ _No!_ ”

Byleth didn't react much aside from blinking faster than he would have normally. Dimitri closed his hand around the ring and held it to his chest, “No, don't alter it. It… It's perfect just as it is, I can string it around some leather as a necklace. It’d feel disrespectful to just… _Change_ it.”

With his head slightly tilted, it seemed fairly obvious Byleth didn't understand what he meant. Still, he nodded regardless, “Alright.”

“You two are _adorable._ ”

Dimitri was reminded that Claude was still there, still on the roof. And they were very much not in a private area. 

As if the spell was broken, the stable hands, guards, and passersby immediately snapped back to work, pretending they had not been watching the scene unfold before them. Dimitri could feel his face heat up and he shielded his growing blush with a hand.

When he peeked at Byleth through his fingers, he couldn't help but feel more embarrassed at the faint dusting of pink that kissed his cheeks. Certainly not as embarrassed as he, but it was kind of nice to see the man actually flustered.

Even so.

“Claude, are you quite done?”

“Oh no, I’m just getting started,” The man propped himself up on white scales, “But _do_ please go on, I could watch this all day.”

Dimitri sighed, though the noise was cut off in his throat when warmth enveloped his fingers. He glanced down to see a gloved hand grasp at his own, then, a gentle tug. 

“Balcony.”

“Of course,” Dimitri shot Claude a sharp look over his shoulders as Byleth dragged him away. 

“There _better_ be a lecture on sweeping kings off their feet on Monday, teach!”

Byleth’s hand tightened as Claude called after them, and a soft, barely-audible, snort escaped his lips. 

A sound that made Dimitri’s chest ache in the most pleasant way.

* * *

The balcony was not secluded, but they were left alone. Only wyvern and pegasus riders could get close enough to hear them, and he was fairly sure Claude kept everyone away. As much of a troublemaker as he was, he did seem to genuinely care for Byleth’s happiness.

Byleth hadn't let go of his hand yet, and Dimitri was certainly not going to point it out. They stood beside each other between the small ponds, the silence was warm, but charged. Dimitri ever so gently squeezed Byleth’s hand, then let go to face the man proper.

“Byleth, there is… There is something I must confirm.”

The silence he was met with was enough to spur him further on.

“I… I am… I am enamored by you. I want to court you, properly. I do not wish for this, for _us,_ to be some fling. I want you to eventually be my husband, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Byleth’s brows furrowed slightly, but Dimitri refused to let himself back down from his words. He didn't want there to be any more misunderstandings, he would wait for a response this time.

“... As do I?” 

Dimitri’s heart clenched, “You don't sound very sure.”

“I am,” Byleth’s tone was uncharacteristically firm, “I do not understand why you are telling me this though. I _already_ gave you the ring.”

“There is…. There’s more to courtship than just exchanging rings,” He laughed despite himself, “In Feargus, there are traditions that are followed, I must earn your favor, and then your fath… Well, someone you _care for’s_ favor. I must prove that I am to be a worthy husband, then there is the ransom, and the ceremony…”

“Why?”

Dimitri blinked once, twice, and stared down at Byleth. His mouth quirked into a slight frown, brows pinched, Byleth seemed… _confused._

“Its… Its tradition.”

“But what is the point of all that? I love you, I have no desire to be with anyone else, why bother going through all that if our feelings are mutual?”

Dimitri tried not to let his heart beat straight out of his chest at Byleth’s blatant and almost casual declaration of love. He must have stared at him too long, as Byleth reached forward and grabbed his fingers again, and just… Stood there.

It brought back memories of when Dimitri’s ghosts were louder, when they howled for revenge, and Byleth remained by his side. Silent support for him to cling to as he weathered the storm that raged in his mind and heart.

“I suppose it must seem silly, huh?” Dimitri finally managed to speak, “But… If you would allow me, I would like to do it anyway. There is not much of the Blaiddyd name left, I am the sole survivor, there are many things I am changing as king, but I’d like… I’d like to keep this alive.”

Byleth nodded, warmth filling the creases of his eyes, “Very well.”

“Thank you, Byleth.”

* * *

Dimitri wanted nothing more than to stay by Byleth’s side the entire time he was at the Monastery. But, it was unrealistic, so he was left to wander the halls as Byleth did whatever he did. 

He figured he would see him eventually at the cathedral, so he decided to give his wandering a bit more purpose. Though often found himself sidetracked and distracted when a familiar face or two would drag him from his quest and chat for a while.

Annette and Mercedes were so happy for them, Dimitri wasn't sure how the news of them _officially_ courting got out.

Actually. 

No.

It was definitely Claude.

He passed through the reception hall, only to be stopped by Dedue, “Your Majesty.”

His tone was firm, mouth drawn into a tight line. Dimitri nodded and followed his troubled friend up the stairs to Alois’s office. Much to the dismay of the man inside.

“Dedue! Come on, I told you this is faith. We can't, it’s insensitive to bring- ah that is…” The man trailed off and sighed.

“Guard Captain Alois, what is troubling you?”

It was odd to see such a rather large man shrink in on himself, and press the ends of his fingers together like a child scorned, “It's… Nothing. Well no. It's _not_ nothing, I was just seeking some words of advice on how our friend here uh, managed certain… things.”

“Archbishop Byleth has been leaving Garreg Mach each night, and not coming back until the early hours of the morning. When the guard captain followed him, it seemed he could hear and see things that were not there, and such things were trying to get him to do something he is incapable of.”

Dimitri’s whole world stopped.

Did Byleth have ghosts of his own? After all this time, the man never said anything of them. How long had he been suffering in silence? Had Dimitri selfishly clung and drained Byleth’s comfort while the man himself was suffering the same?

He had been so, utterly, _disgustingly_ selfish.

It made sense now, the growing dark circles beneath Byleth’s eyes. Of course he isn't sleeping.

Dimitri needed to return the favor, he needed to help Byleth manage his own demons. 

Dedue must have picked up on Dimitri’s conviction, and spoke, “We will accompany you tonight.”

Alois sighed, but did not protest.

* * *

When the last rays of light left the sky, they departed.

Alois was adamant on staying a respectful distance from the Archbishop, worried they would startle the man.

Dimitri knew better, Byleth was well aware of them following him, he just did not care. So Dimitri didn’t bother to mask his presence, it was a waste of energy better spent on trying to keep up with a wyvern whilst on horseback.

Hooves kicked up clumps of dirt and grass as the land thundered beneath them, traveling from the monastery all the way to the outer wall of Garreg Mach. Dimirti was glad for the silver armor Dagur wore, otherwise it would be so easy to lose sight of the dragoness against the black sky.

They came to a wall, one that had been patched up recently, if the discoloration between the bricks were any indication. 

Why here? What was so special about…

Memories flashed into Dimitri’s mind.

That dragon, Byleth’s scream, the way the cliff crumbled beneath his beloved professor’s feet. His desperate attempt to find him once the fighting had died down.

This was where Byleth fell, where he disappeared for _five long years._

Why come back? Why would he ever want to return to such a wretched place?

Dagur angled her wings, and in a glint of green and silver, both she and Byleth dove down the ravine on the other side of the wall.

They had lost them.

“This way, I know where they’re headed,” Alois called, further along the wall to the drawbridge that led out of Garreg Mach’s territory.

Dimitri adjusted his horse and followed suit.

The path from Garreg Mach was different when night fell, an eerie mist settled over the road and the forest surrounding it. Alois turned, and started to lead them into the forest.

Sickness bubbled in the back of Dimitri’s throat. A horrendous nausea, his body desperately trying to convince him to turn around, to leave, there was _danger._

_They needed to go._

_This place was wrong._

He glanced in Dedue’s direction, his knuckles paled where he clenched his mare’s reigns. 

“It will pass,” Alois assured them as he took point.

The deeper into the dense forest they trotted, the more intense the feeling became. Dimitri had to stop to breathe, lest he spill his lunch over the back of his steed’s neck. The hell kind of trickery was this? 

It took everything he had to not turn around, to not run like the coward his entire being begged him to be. 

The trees thinned out and gave way to a river. As if they river were holy in itself, the feeling passed, replaced by a gentle, serene calm. 

“What… _was_ that?”

Alois shook his head.

It must have been some sort of magic protecting this place, but why? And from whom?

They followed the river north, the water began to glow. From it, crystals could be seen jutting out from the current. Spires of them reached away from the waterfall they seemed to originate.

There, just at the base of the water, was a massive structure of crystal, surrounded by a tree that had grown and woven itself around the precious stone.

Yet in the center, there was a crack, as if it had split open at one point.

What _was_ this place?

Alois slid off his horse and led them into the bushes, just as Byleth emerged from the trees. He carried his clothes in his arms, and dropped them unceremoniously at the edge of the riverbank. Had it been any other situation, Dimitri knew he would undoubtedly feel flustered and embarrassed at seeing his beloved in such a bare state.

Still, even as the man waded into the water unburdened, the only thing Dimitri felt was concern.

That, and confusion as to why they were hiding.

He humored Alois’ naivete and turned his full focus to Byleth. He was just standing there at the base of the tree crystal. His hands clasped together, head hung, as if he were in prayer.

What was he doing?

“I am aware, thank you.”

Dimitri was a bit surprised to hear Byleth speak, but his brows furrowed even further. What were the voices saying to him? Were they calling him to lose himself to revenge as well?

He would not let that happen.

Byleth clicked his tongue and chided, “You told me this was easier, it has nothing to do with him.”

“I do not.”

“I am, you are not helping.”

“Yes, I do.”

“I don't _have_ one, remember?”

“You and I both know that will not happen.”

The more Dimitri listened, the more confused he became. Byleth did not seem troubled, per se, by the voice in his head, instead bantering with it as if it were an old friend. It was… Unusual, and bewildered him to his core.

Byleth sighed and dropped his hands, they splashed into the water at his hips. 

“This won't work.”

“ _Of course_ I do, but I am not you.”

“No, I am not.”

Byleth carded a hand through his hair and sighed, shoulders slumped and hands dropped back into the water with barely a ripple. 

Silence spanned the air. Dimitri wasn't sure how long they had sat there in the quiet, but it felt like eons.

Enough was enough.

Dimitri rose from their hiding place, and gingerly stepped through the gravel and mud as he came to stop before Byleth’s clothes.

The man did not react, just continued looking down at the water with furrowed brows.

He carefully unclasped his cloak from his shoulders and dumped it beside Byleth’s own, then waded into the freezing water clad only in the decorative tunic and slacks he donned around the monastery.

Byleth still made no movement as he came to the man’s side, so, Dimitri leaned down and gently pulled Byleth’s hand from the water, and warmed it in his own. He didn't speak, just stood there, support for Byleth to cling to as he weathered through whatever storm he faced.

That drew a reaction out of him, Byleth looked up at him from beneath pale lashes, his brows furrowed in an unspoken question. Dimitri tried to force a reassuring smile, and squeezed Byleth’s hand gently, hoping his silent support would be of help.

Then, the man’s eyes widened. 

“Oh,” He sighed, “I see. That is why you followed me… It is not the same. I promise.”

“You do not have to be ashamed,” Dimitri murmured.

“I know, but it is still not the same. I am frustrated, but I am not suffering.”

Dimitri couldn't say he fully understood what Byleth was trying to say, but he nodded anyway. It seemed whatever ghosts haunting him were not vengeful, but they kept him awake and irked him regardless.

“Come, lets get some rest,” Dimitri carefully tugged on Byleth’s hand, but would not force him to leave.

After a pregnant pause, the man relented and let Dimirti lead him from the water and help him dress. Dimitri’s head was far too clouded with concern to really realize what he was doing as he pulled Byleth’s pants up his scarred hips.

They returned to the horses, where Dedue and Alois were already mounted up and prepared to leave. Dimitri let Byleth hoist himself onto the gelding before settling himself against his back and taking the reins.

The ride home was done in utter silence. The only sound was their breathing and the beating of wings above them as Dagur followed them back.

Something else sparked Dimitri’s attention, something strange.

Byleth was warm, and he expected to feel gentle thumps against his chest where Byleth had leaned back into him, yet… There was nothing.

Dimitri dismissed it as the armor covering Byleth’s shoulders and upper back, then pushed the odd thought from his mind. Instead, he grounded himself with Byleth’s even breathes.

Not a word was spoken between any of them as they returned their steeds to the stable, and Dimitri grabbed Byleth’s wrist to lead him back to his quarters. A part of him feared if he let go, the man would return to that… place. Whatever it was.

Byleth humored him and did not struggle as was pulled along.

Their steps echoed in the abandoned halls, no one but them surely awake.

Dimitri stopped once they reached the open door of Byleth’s private quarters.

“Thank you, for letting us take you back.”

Byleth met his gaze, then lowered his eyes with a frown, “I will be returning tomorrow.”

Dimitri sighed, but nodded, “Then I will go with you. As long as I am able to remain at the monastery, I will accompany you each night you leave.”

“I am not being haunted, Dimitri.”

“Even still, you are losing sleep. You have people that are worried about you.”

Byleth met his eye again, “It is not the reason for my lack of sleep.”

Dimitri found that hard to believe, but decided not to comment, and instead released Byleth’s hand and bowed.

“Please try and get some rest tonight, then. I’d… Like to see you for tea tomorrow, if I may.”

Byleth bowed as well, awkward and forced, he wobbled as his balance was thrown off from the sudden movement, then righted himself with pink cheeks.

“Yes. Meet me at the greenhouse for breakfast.”

“I will see you then, Byleth.”

* * *

  
  


Dimitri was not sure what he had expected when he strode into the greenhouse the next morning.

The sweet scent of forget-me-nots greeted him, followed by the sight of the delicate blue flowers almost overflowing from the place. Yet even with how many there were, the plants that had made their home there long before them remained. Healthy, and undisturbed by the sudden growth around them.

Blue petals littered the stone barrier along the edge of the soil.

A table had been brought to the center of the greenhouse, and despite there usually being at least one or two people there, the place was empty aside from Byleth. Two full cups of tea already set.

“I hope you weren't waiting long,” Dimitri smiled, and Byleth shook his head.

The man pushed a plate of food toward him, biscuits and cookies. He recognized the smell of cookies, they were a recipe from Duscur. Dimitri remembered Dedue baking them for him years ago.

“Thank you.”

They enjoyed their food in silence, yet Dimitri couldn't shake off his concern. The man looked as if he had another sleepless night, or at best, a very fitful sleep.

“You didn't sleep well last night… Did you?”

“No.”

Dimitri let the warmth of chamomile soothe him before he set his cup down, “I am willing to listen, if you are willing to talk.”

Silence hung heavy in the air, Byleth stared down at the dark amber liquid swirling in the porcelain his fingers wrapped around. He wasn't wearing gloves, and Dimitri could faintly see scars that licked up his fingers, some older than others.

It was easy to forget Byleth had grown up as a mercenary. He spent almost his whole life fighting. For what Dimitri could _now_ see as a genuinely loving soul, it could be hard to imagine the man before him cutting down countless lives without a thought.

Though, he supposed the same could be said of himself.

Dimitri let Byleth structure the conversation on his own, it was clear the man wished to speak, but he seemed troubled when it came to finding the right words. He could relate.

So, the king waited.

“I… Do not like sleeping. I sleep enough for necessity, that is all.”

Dimitri didn't speak, instead opted to let Byleth speak at his own pace.

“I was asleep for five years. I _abandoned_ you, all of you, when you needed me most. I fear it will happen again. I don't want to lose another five years.”

Byleth’s knuckles paled as he gripped the warmth from his tea, “If I sleep, I’m scared I won't wake up again.”

“You did not abandon us, Byleth. You had no control over what happened.”

“It is that lack of control that scares me. I have always been in control of myself, my abilities, my body. I had to be, in order to survive. Because I have no control, I do not know when it’ll happen again,” Byleth hung his head, “And that in itself terrifies me.”

Dimitri was unsure how to respond. Even as he spoke, Byleth had barely any fluctuation to his voice, even and calm despite sharing what undoubtedly was something hard to talk about. Yet there was a rawness to his words that hurt. Byleth had always seemed this untouchable man, someone beyond fear or worries.

Yet, the closer he grew to him, the more he learned Byleth was just a man. Like him, like Claude, like anyone else. 

Just a person trying to get by in this world.

Dimitri reached forward and uncurled once of Byleth’s hands from the cup he clenched. He flipped his hand over and interlaced their fingers, then gave a gentle squeeze. 

Byleth seemed to respond far better to actions than words, even if it took learning a whole other language, Dimitri was determined to meet his beloved wherever he was.

When Byleth squeezed back, the heavy gloom that had settled over them lifted. Everything would be alright, they’d get through whatever this was. 

_Together._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand we back with round 2.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!


	3. A Heart That May Not Beat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He stood immediately and was quick to meet him at the base of the stairs, “Byleth, you're here. What brings you so far north?”
> 
> Byleth’s face was red, and even with the second coat he had on top of his other one, the man looked miserable.
> 
> “It's cold.”

The next three nights are much of the same. Though far less fanfare.

He’d follow Byleth through the cursed woods, and sit on the riverbank as Byleth battled his inner demons. 

Though, with much of his initial terror ebbed away, it was a bit harder to ignore the fact his former professor would wade into a river completely nude. 

He was _very_ nice to look at.

Dimitri spent the nights after that facing away from him, to give the man his privacy. He surely didn't need someone ogling the dips of his muscles, or how the curve of his back accentuated his elegant, yet undoubtedly powerful, form.

Byleth didn't talk as much as he did on the first night either. Dimitri wondered if the demons were quieter when he was there - though he knew that was foolish and wrong, support of someone dear could help, sure, but never would it permanently silence the ghosts.

Occasionally he’d mutter something.

“ _Cichol?_ What good would that do me?”

Dimitri glanced over his shoulder, the name of one of the four saints? He was under the impression the professor was never taught of the Goddess properly, such was the life living as a mercenary. He must have picked up some knowledge of the saints while teaching.

Seteth probably made him.

Though why would he speak the saint’s name now? What did the voice tell him to do?

“Ah… Wouldn't that be dangerous?”

Dimitri’s concern flared again, but he wouldn't get involved unless he felt it necessary. It could be horribly disorienting when someone pulled you to reality when in the middle of an episode, that initial terror of confusion was not something he’d wish upon Byleth.

“Very well.”

Byleth’s hands dropped and he breathed a heavy sigh. Dimitri turned to face the forest again, keeping vigil to be sure no monsters or beasts would approach them.

Dedue was a bit further down the river, so he was confident if a fight were to pass, they would have no trouble. Even nude, Byleth was more than capable of defending himself, he knew. 

Still. He’d rather not have to fight in the middle of the night.

Much less watch his former professor throw around fireballs in the buff.

Dimitri could hear the water shift as Byleth approached the shore. The man did not care for modesty as he himself did, no shame graced his form as he redressed beside Dimitri. He couldn't tell if that was because he trusted Dimitri, or because modesty was not something valued as a mercenary.

Maybe a bit of both.

When he was sure Byleth at least had his pants on, Dimitri turned his head to look up at the man from where he sat, “Finished?”

“For now, there is something I am missing. I will seek answers tomorrow.”

Dimitri nodded, perhaps he was going to try praying to the saints instead of the Goddess.

* * *

As a King, he could never be away from the people for long.

A week was already pushing it, he needed to return. His people needed him, even as he longed to spend even a few more days with Byleth.

He needed to face his sins at Enbarr, he needed to prove to the people he had no intention of slaughtering them, or forcing them to change their customs and culture to meet his own.

He would return, he always did. But that did not make the trek up stone stairs any less heavy.

“- You have to tell him, ya know.”

“I know.”

Dimitri paused, ah, Claude was still at the monastery. He had made himself rather scarce the last few days, Dimitri thought he may have already left. He was a king in his homeland now, Almyra, wasn't he?

Dimitri wondered how that played out, and decided he’d ask about it another time.

“What _does_ he know?”

“I am… Unsure. Very little, at best.”

Claude sighed, Dimitri wondered if he was walking in on a private conversation.

“I’m saying this as a friend, but the fact that I know more than he does is... Weird.”

“You figured it out, I never told you anything, if you recall.”

“Well, ok. Thats fair. Still, what are you gonna do?”

“I’ll let him read it.”

Dimitri cleared his throat, not fond of the possibility of hearing things not meant for his own ears.

The two startled, and turned from the balcony they stood on, to face Dimitri.

“Well look who it is.”

“Dimitri.”

Yeah, he had definitely been intruding on a private conversation. He pushed the odd sense of jealousy aside and instead smiled at the pair, “I came to let you know I must return to Fhirdiad, then travel to Enbarr. I may be gone for some moons.”

Byleth nodded, and left Claude’s side to stand before him.

“I see, how long will you be in Fhirdiad?”

“Not sure, likely a month while I prepare for the trip to Enbarr, I do not know how long I’ll be at the former Imperial Capital. I have to be sure the citizens of the city are recovering and well supplied.”

“Alright.”

Byleth walked past him, and down the stairs. Dimitri hesitated for a moment, and glanced at Claude - who made vague pushing motions with his hands - before trailing after the Archbishop.

The man saw him to the front gate as he and his people left to journey north.

* * *

Paperwork was truly the worst part of being a king.

So many requests, suggestions, and alliances to pour over. Each no less important than the last, which made getting through the seeming ever growing stack all the more tiresome.

He set his quill down and stretched his wrist, his joints were starting to ache from sitting and writing for so long. Dimitri had to get them finished before he rested though, as no doubt another stack would be awaiting his attention tomorrow.

Still, he allowed himself a brief reprieve to mull over his next plan of action with Byleth was.

Traditionally, he’d approach his beloved’s father, and perform a great feat to win their blessing of the courtship. Mothers would often be candidates as well, or any sort of parental figure. It was supposed to symbolize the parent trusting the life of their precious child to the soon-to-be.

A passing of the torch, in a sense.

Yet, Jeralt was the only parent Byleth had, and he… was dead.

Dimitri sighed and pulled a hand down his face, “Who the hell am I going to ask?”

It was a question more for himself, but Dedue, from his post in the doorway, responded anyway, “Why not ask the Archbishop himself?”

Dimitri frowned, “You can't just ask someone that.”

“Why not?”

“If someone asked _you_ who you’d choose to stand in for your dead parents, how would you take that?”

“Hm. Your traditions of courtship are so convoluted, just tie knots and get it over with.”

Dimitri shifted and rested his arm on the back of his chair, “Is that what your people do for marriage?”

“We would tie the wrists of the couple together, then time them. The amount of knots they would tie within a certain time frame was how many years they would be wed.”

“That's… it?”

“Yes. There was no need for anything else, marriage is a partnership, is it not? The more knots the couple could tie, the better suited they were to work as a single unit. In order to tie the most knots, their hands would have to act as one, and they would need full trust and cooperation of the other to successfully tie even one, much less more than that.”

“Huh, I thought it’d be more romantic.”

Dedue shrugged, “What was and wasn't romantic was decided between the couple, it had no bearing on tradition or expectations. Could you work together? Yes? Good, you're married.”

“That's… Rather nice, actually,” Dimitri shifted his focus back on the papers before him, “I still want to court Byleth with my people’s traditions, though. Just need to figure out how.”

“Then, with all due respect, _ask him._ ”

* * *

“Your Majesty, you have a visitor.”

Dimitri turned his attention from the documents in his lap to the man that bowed at the base of the steps that lead to the throne. He tilted his head, then glanced out the window.

It wasn't too early for others to be awake, exactly, but everyone that had a pressing matter with him got their meetings out of the way within the week had been here. He was preparing to leave for Enbarr in five days.

Still, if someone came to grace him this early, it must be important.

“Send them in, please.”

He rolled the documents he had been reviewing up and tied them off with a strip of leather. He had a small table beside the throne so he could place excess paper when speaking to his people. He didn't like having his hands cluttered when addressing the concerns of those that came to him. Felt too much like dismissing them, or only giving them half of his attention.

He had not expected to see the Archbishop himself walk into the room. He looked almost casual, in his war attire, the same ridiculous coat with the same ridiculous cut sleeves. 

Dimitri wondered why he hadn't just gotten one that fit him properly instead of doing _that_ to the arms.

He stood immediately and was quick to meet him at the base of the stairs, “Byleth, you're here. What brings you so far north?”

Byleth’s face was red, and even with the second coat he had on top of his other one, the man looked miserable.

“It's cold.”

Dimitri’s laugh bubbled from his throat before he could stop himself, “Yes, Faerghus usually is.”

Byleth narrowed his eyes at him, and Dimitri barely managed to repress another chuckle, “Come, it’d help if you wore proper attire for the cold. Let's get you warmed up, yes?”

“Can you leave the throne?”

“Should someone need me, I will undoubtedly be fetched, now, however, I am seeing a very important guest.”

“I can wait.”

Dimitri sighed and ushered Byleth from the throne room, “I am speaking of you.”

“Oh.”

Dimitri had spare clothes in his room, and the barracks, but Dimitri would rather have Byleth wear something more comfortable than fur insulated armor.

Byleth was silent as he led him through the halls of his castle, perhaps he should give a proper tour. 

Later, he decided.

He opened the door to his quarters and once Byleth stepped in, closed the door behind them.

“Now then, lets see what I have.”

A cloak would probably be the easiest, and would not require Byleth to change, so he went for one of those first. There was a deep blue one, the inside lined with sheep wool, and the collar with bear fur. It was not as ‘flashy’ as his usually white furred cape, but he did not think Byleth was one to like standing out.

Even if the man could draw the attention of an entire country by standing in the middle of a forest.

He gathered the cape in his arms and draped it around Byleth’s shoulders.

“Well…” Dimitri bit his thumb to keep from breaking down in peals of laughter at the sight before him.

For as proud and tall Byleth carried himself, the man was… Short.

Definitely not the shortest he had ever met, but he barely came up to Dimitri's shoulder. It certainly did not help that he was not as broad as Dimitri himself was. Far from lithe and delicate, but the man’s muscle was more compact. He was the snake to Dimitri’s boar.

The cloak absolutely swallowed him.

“It's warm,” Byleth supplied from where he was, quite literally, drowning in fur.

“ _It's_ a bit big on you.”

“Obviously,” Byleth deadpanned, “It was tailored for you.”

Dimitri smiled and adjusted the cloak to sit better on the man’s shoulders, so it didn't quite smother him so completely. He could see Byleth’s face more clearly now, the way his unusual eyes stared at him from where he stood, warm, yet unfathomably stoic.

He tucked a strand of pale hair behind his ear, “There you are.”

The morning sun flickered through the windows behind his bed, the stained glass cast the room in a myriad of colors. As the colors touched Byleth’s face and hair, Dimitri couldn't help but wonder how he had been so lucky to meet such a fantastic man.

His hand remained on Byleth’s cheek, who leaned into the touch with closed eyes. 

A part of his mind bristled at the display of trust, wanting to reprimand him for closing his eyes to a feral animal.

But as soon as the thought made itself known, Dimitri dismissed it. He was not a beast, he was a man. Just like Byleth, just like Dedue.

Dimitri traced his thumb along the bone beneath Byleth’s eye, the dark circles were still prominent. He hadn't been sleeping.

Perhaps now that he was in Faerghus, he would be able to rest easier without the burden of having to return to that cursed place each night. Dimitri wanted him to feel safe enough to rest here, even if he himself had to stand vigil outside his door each night.

Byleth’s eyes were open, his gaze seemed to be studying Dimitri for… something. Even not knowing what he wanted, Dimitri waited patiently for Byleth to finish his search, or speak of what plagued his mind.

“Your hair is longer.”

Dimitri pulled back and covered a wholly unflattering laugh with a gloved hand.

“What?” Byleth frowned and grabbed the hand he hid behind.

“I was expecting you to say something else, you looked so focused.”

“It was harder to tell with your hair up,” He justified through a monotone drawl. Dimitri wanted nothing more than to grab his pink cheeks between his hands and kiss the man senseless.

Dimitri placed his hands on either side of Byleth’s face, the man didn't pull away, but did furrow his brow.

“Can I… Can I kiss you?”

Byleth stared at him, blinked once, twice, and just sort of… stood there.

Dimitri felt foolish, he shouldn't have presumed that he’d want to be kissed. He should have-

“Yes.”

Oh.

Dimitri knew he was beaming when he gazed down at his former professor. There was some distant shouting in the halls, but Dimitri didn't pay it any mind and he lowered himself to meet Byleth’s lips. He barely was able to ghost his own against him before the door slammed open.

“GOOD MORNinnngg…… Huh. Hi Professor.”

“Sylvain, hello.”

“ _Sylvain._ ”

Dimitri let go of Byleth’s face, worried his frustration would flare the crest beneath his skin. Sylvain chuckled, gave a weak wave, and closed the door before Dimitri did something he regretted.

“Wonder what he is doing up so early,” Byleth mused, entirely unphased by the situation. 

“Nothing good,” Dimitri groused, but with the moment lost, he may as well figure out what he needed.

He opened the door again to find, unsurprisingly, Sylvain, Felix, and Ingrid on the other side. Ingrid had Sylvain by the ear and was furiously scolding him in a tone hushed enough it could not be heard through a closed door.

“What do you need?” Dimitri sighed, and the three snapped to attention.

“Sorry for disturbing you, Your Majesty,” Ingrid bowed, “We had heard you were relatively free this morning, and decided to see if you would like to dine with us for breakfast, or an early lunch. But we see, ah, that you are busy, and would be happy to come by another time.”

Byleth ducked under the arm Dimitri was using to hold the heavy oak open, “I am hungry.”

Sylvain skipped after their professor down the hall, likely eager to escape Dimitri’s wrath, “Whatcha’ wearing there?”

“Dimitri’s cloak.”

“It’s kinda big on you, isn't it?”

“Clearly.”

Ingrid flinched and turned to face him, “Sorry.”

Dimitri shrugged, then let the door fall closed behind him, “Can't be helped, I suppose. Still, it is nice to see you all, I would love to take you up on that offer for breakfast.”

“I suppose your partner did not leave you much choice, huh?”

“To be fair,” Dimitri hummed, matching his strides with Ingrid’s, “I do not know when he ate last.”

* * *

Even irritated as he was, it was always a delight to dine with those he loved.

He stole a sip of water before inclining his head toward Ingrid, “You three are early, we won't be departing until later this week.”

Ingrid did not respond, her mouth full of food, so Sylvain replied in her stead, “Yeah, figured we’d come a bit early to help pack and plan everything, lighten the load a bit, y’know?”

“Why?”

Felix snorted, “You don't have to do everything yourself.”

Dimitri felt warm.

Though, that raised the question, “Byleth, not that I’m not delighted to see you, but, why _did_ you come?”

“You visit me at Garreg Mach all the time, it was my turn.”

Dimitri knew Byleth likely saw this as a small gesture, but to Dimitri, the fact he was willing to travel so far, alone, just to see him… It meant a lot.

“Ew, don't make that face.” 

“Felix, _I swear to the Goddess,_ if you ruin their moment I will personally gut you.”

* * *

“Are you sure you can spare the extra healers?” Dimitri inquired, the idea of taking healers from the monastery… Bothered him a bit.

“Yes. Manuala herself said he would like to accompany you.”

“I’m not expecting any fights.”

“I am not sending soldiers with you, but extra help would likely be appreciated by them now, especially at such a fragile time in their history. The more friendly faces they see, the less fearful they will be.”

Dimitri could see the point, and the Monastery was not too far out of their way on the path south to Enbarr.

“What if something happens while I am gone?”

“We can defend and heal ourselves, Dimitri. Flayn is an excellent healer, and she is not our only one.”

“Yes, but what if-”

“Dimitri,” Byleth grabbed his fingers and stopped their walk down the hall to where the man would reside for the night, “Do you trust me?”

“With my life.”

“Then trust I know who I can and can not afford to send with you.”

Dimitri still didn't like it, but deflated and relented all the same. He trusted Byleth, the man had never led them wrong, in classes or in war.

He could trust him on this.

“Here, this is the room you can stay in tonight. Please let me know if there is anything you’d like changed, or if you need more furs or-”

“Thank you, Dimitri.”

Byleth stepped inside and shrugged off the cloak, then his second coat, then… His usual coat. When he was free of armor and wore his tunic, Byleth pulled the cloak back on.

Dimitri decided he’d just give the man the thing, he clearly liked it far more than Dimitri ever cared to.

Though he noticed Byleth had a bag with him, had he been carrying that all day?

“I want to talk.”

Dimitri stepped inside the room without thinking, and sat down on the edge of the bed beside his partner.

“What troubles you?”

Byleth opened the bag and retrieved a leather-bound journal. It was old, that much was obvious, but incredibly well loved. He passed the book off to Dimitri, “Read it.”

Dimitri wasn't sure what to make of the expression Byleth wore on his face, but flipped open to an early page. The handwriting was neat and well crafted.

It was… A journal.

_Day 5, Great Tree Moon_

_I’ve finally got her name, Sitri. She seems to be Lady Rhea’s daughter, though the two look more like sisters than anything. She told me I stunk like an unwashed horse, and dumped a bucket of water over my head. I think I love her._

_Day 17, Great Tree Moon_

_Sitri agreed to get drinks with me. That woman does not emote much, but damn can she hold her ale. She drank the whole gang under the table, with nothing more than a faint dusting on her cheeks from the booze. She said alcohol didn't affect her much, but I call bullshit. She was exactly the type of person to feign innocence and drink every man in a bar out of their last coin. I love her._

Dimitri skipped around between the passages, confusion threading his mind. What was this? It spoke of Lady Rhea, and some woman he never had heard her mention before. When did she have a daughter? Where was she now? Who was this…

Realization struck him hard, and he immediately snapped the book shut.

“This is your father’s journal.”

“Yes.”

Dimitri handed the book back, “Here, take it.”

Something akin to hurt flashed over Byleth’s face, then shoved the book back into Dimitri’s lap.

“Read. It.”

“No, I will not. I am done living by the words of dead men Byleth, anything this book says can be told to me by you, and you alone.”

“Dimitri, it is important, read it.”

“If it is so important, then why do _you_ not tell me yourself?”

Byleth bristled, his eyes narrowed and he stood, “I am poor at words, there are things you should know, about me.”

“Then _tell_ me.”

Byleth pulled at his hair, growing more and more frustrated, Dimitri took pity on the man and stood as well, gently untangling his hands from the pale locks.

“Listen, whatever secrets that book holds, you can tell me. If not tonight, then another. You do not have to tell me everything at once, Byleth, I am patient, and can wait. So long as your heart still beats,” Dimitri intertwined their fingers and placed their joined hands over his own heart, “I will be by your side. I promise.”

Byleth froze, his eyes wide.

Did he say something wrong?

The man roughly jerked away from Dimitri, and left the room.

Was that too much? Did Byleth not wish for their commitment to be that long? Dimitri pushed the swirling thoughts from his mind, the man wanted to marry him, Dimitri was being foolish. Still, it was so unlike Byleth to react like that.

He longed to chase after the man, but he knew him well enough by now that if Byleth did not want to be found, he was impossible to track down.

Dimitri tucked the book back into Byleth’s bag and returned to his own room, his heart heavy and pained in his chest.

The next morning, Dimitri woke to the journal on his nightstand, with a messy note saying ‘Please, read it.’

Byleth had left.

Dimitri tucked the journal into the first drawer of his desk, he would not live by the words of the dead any longer. 

He couldn't.

* * *

Dimitri didn't see Byleth again until he had reached the monastery. The man seemed to be over his previous frustrations, but Dimitri knew they needed to talk, and they needed to talk badly. However, he could only spare enough time for his troops to resupply and to pick up the healers.

On his way back, he would stop by Garreg Mach again, and be sure they’d have a proper conversation. Something didn't sit right in the back of his mind, a nagging feeling that he knew would not go until he learned why Byleth wanted him to read that journal so badly.

He adjusted the straps of the saddle on his horse, with the saddlebags on, he needed to be sure everything was fitted properly so as not to allow the leather to dig into the animal’s belly. 

A wave of vertigo washed over him, and he stopped his movement to lean on the horse. 

It had been a long time since he had experienced that. Before, it had only happened in battles, followed shortly by Byleth barking orders at them that seemed to go against what the logical course of action was.

Only to be met with the realization that if he had not commanded them to change formation, they would have died.

Dimitri rubbed his temples, ugh, it had been such a long time since that happened. Perhaps he was falling ill?

There were some shouts further into the Monastery, but Dimitri figured it was Seteth scolding someone again. The man may have relaxed after the war, but he was far from laid back.

It wasn't until he saw Dedue freeze, and rush from his side did he actually turn around to see what the ruckus was all about.

Byleth stood at the top of the stairs that led from the front gate, blood soaked the upper half of his garment, seeming to come from his mouth, where red smeared his lips. Seteth was managing to keep him upright, albeit barely.

“Archbishop! What are you _doing,_ we need to get you to the infirmary!”

Flayn was on his other side, her hands glowed, undoubtedly trying to heal whatever wound he bore.

Dimitri didn't think as he rushed up the stairs, and gathered the man in his arms.

“Byleth, what happened?”

“Don’t- D-Don’t go to Enbarr.”

Dimitri furrowed his brows, “We have to leave, Byleth, the people-”

“You’ll all die.”

The certainty in his voice chilled Dimitri.

The man weakly pulled at his cape, his eyes were half-lidded and glazing over, “Promise, please. Please, please, don't go please-”

His voice trailed off into incoherent rambling, and he was right on Seteth’s heels as they ran to the infirmary.

Manuela directed him to lay the man down, and she immediately went to work.

_‘Don't go to enbarr, you’ll all die.’_

He said it with such conviction, what did Byleth know? 

Who _did this_ to him?

Dimitri was glad he was not holding anything, otherwise it surely would have shattered in his hands.

He was so scared, he couldn't lose Byleth.

“Shit, get out. There’s no heartbeat! Flyan, get over here, Seteth, Dimitri, _leave._ ”

Dimitri didn't know what was happening as he was pushed from the room.

_No heartbeat._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HECK YEAH, YA BOI GETTING THESE CHAPTERS OUT
> 
> Also!! Holy heck, thank you for the comments and support I've been getting! You all are so nice, reading ya comments just totally makes my day.
> 
> Dimitri: Hey as long as you aren't a corpse I'll still love you ahaha  
> Byleth: waIT SHIT-


	4. Thrum of Heartbeats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “She thinks you are being horribly obtuse and wishes she had a body of her own to, and I quote, _‘knock some sense into you’._ ”
> 
> Ok, fantastic. 
> 
> The Goddess thought he was a moron.

_ All this fuss over a heartbeat?  _

_ You humans are so peculiar.  _

Dimitri blinked exhaustion out of his mind and rubbed his eye with the palm of his hand. There was a weight on his shoulder, he glanced down to see a mop of blond hair leaning against him. Ingrid clutched her silver spear to her chest, though she seemed to have fallen asleep.

Felix and Sylvain were right beside her, Sylvain tucked into Felix’s chest. The man’s head was propped up on auburn hair, eyes closed, though he seemed to simply be resting, and was not truly asleep.

Dedue stood on the other side of the door frame, his face stern. His axe rested beside his leg, ready to be swung at a moment’s notice should danger strike. Ashe sat beside him, his bow strewn across his lap, though he tried to stay awake, Dimitri could see the way he was starting to nod off.

How long had they all been here?

He realized, a bit belatedly, they were far from the only ones crowding the hall. Flayn and Seteth spoke in hushed whispers at the mouth of his office. Alois, Cathrine, and Shamir stood on the other wall, each armed as Dedue was, standing vigil over Byleth’s room.

Manuela stepped out then, and wiped sweat from her brow, her skin was pale, well,  _ paler. _ She seemed troubled.

He stood immediately, and only once he was standing did he remember Ingrid had been leaning on him.

She fell to the ground with a thunk of her armor, and a curse at being jolted awake.

“Sorry, Ingrid.”

Manuela pushed her hair back, “You may see him now, he’s not totally coherent, but he’s alive.”

As one the group descended on the entrance of the infirmary, only for Manuala to spread her arms and block them out, “ _ Hey! _ Manners, one at a time. Your Majesty, you may enter first, the rest of you will wait until he is actually awake.”

Dimitri bowed, and stepped past her after receiving permission. Manuela hesitated in the doorway, then left the room, softly closing the door behind her.

Byleth looked unharmed.

He was ashen, the bags under his eyes only more prominent, but there were no bandages covering his chest, and no visible wounds he could see. Manuela must have stitched him right up.

Dimitri pulled a chair from a nearby table and dragged it to Byleth’s bedside.

“Hey, you awake?”

“Dimitri?” Byleth’s voice slurred, but he seemed to be at least somewhat aware of his surroundings.

“Yeah, it's me,” Dimitri pulled the hand closest to him between his own, it was cold, but not too clammy or stiff.

“You stayed. Good. Don't think I would have been able to do it again.”

Dimitri frowned, “I sent a messenger to Enbarr, to inform them of an emergency here. What happened?”

“You all died.”

With a heavy breath, he leaned back in the chair and stared at Byleth, did he have a night terror? That would not explain all the blood though, or the fact his heart stopped beating for a point. Still, he clearly was stressed, perhaps he had been attacked by magic?

Dimitri squeezed his hand, “We didn't die, we’re all still here. Me, Dedue, Ingrid, everyone. They're all just outside this room.”

“Alive again. Good.”

“We didn't die Byleth, I promise. You had some sort of nightmare, it's alright now.”

Byleth, even in his current state, still had the energy to level him with an unimpressed look.

“You didn't read it.”

Dimitri could tell this was going to make for an interesting conversation.

“No, I did not.”

Byleth sighed, and grabbed ahold of one of Dimitri’s hands. He struggled to sit up, but managed to do so enough to pull off his glove. Bewildered, Dimirti allowed Byleth to guide his bare hand over his chest, it was tacky with sweat, but warm. 

He could feel the rise and fall of his breathing.

“I don't understand.”

“There is something missing,” Byleth supplied, his voice barely above a whisper, and moved his hand a bit more, right over his heart.

“What do you-”

Dimitri froze.

_ No heartbeat. _

“You don't-”

“It doesn't beat, it never did.”

“H-how?” Dimitri demanded, this whole time, was Byleth just a ghost? Was he truly laying somewhere in the ruined cathedral, waiting for death as his mind tried to fool him with thoughts of a happy future?

He pulled his hand back, though regretted it as soon as he saw the expression Byleth made.

Byleth turned his head away from him, “I was born dead, Rhea did something to me when I was a baby that brought me back to life. I don't have a heart.”

Dimitri glanced over Byleth’s chest, there was an odd scar where his heart was, or,  _ should _ have been. Dimitri never thought much of it, perhaps some wayward spell or a close brush with death. He certainly had his own fair share of nasty scars.

He needed to process this.

Someone couldn't live without a heart, how was that possible? Yet there Byleth was, laying before him, alive?

Dimitri sought out Byleth’s hand again and held it between his own, his fingers trembled under the weight of his knowledge. He hunched over and brought the man’s hand to his forehead, there was more. He knew there was.

“... What else?”

Byleth turned his head to stare at him, then gazed up to the wooden rafters.

“The thing keeping me alive is a crest stone.”

Dimitri lifted his head, “That's how you can wield the sword of the creator without its stone, the stone -its…”

“My ‘heart’, yes.”

“What else?”

“I’m-”

“Archbishop Byleth, you are awake!”

Dimitri was  _ so _ damn close to throttling the next person that interrupted his time alone with Byleth.

Seteth strode in, and peered down at him, Flayn at his heels. He sighed and brushed some hair from his face, “We will be postponing the journey.”

Byleth scowled, “Seteth I-”

“No. I do not care, you pushed yourself too much- ah,” Seteth’s attention snapped to Dimitri like a snake, he could almost hear the rattle as the man seized him up.

Then, he turned to Byleth, “Does he know?”

His beloved only glared at Seteth, and did not respond. Dimitri leaned down beside Byleth’s head, “Do you want me to make them leave?”

Seteth sputtered his indignation, Flayn, to her credit, only giggled. 

She plopped down at the foot of the bed and beamed, “It is good to see you awake my friend, I was very worried when I saw you tumbling down the stairs in such a state.”

Byleth sunk further into the pillows, “I’m fine.”

Flayn hummed, and patted his leg, “I know. But I was still worried.”

Dimitri liked Flayn, she was a good woman with a kind soul and a quick wit about her. Seteth however, he often felt lukewarm, at best. Certainly did not hate, much less dislike the man. 

Still.

He was important to Byleth though, and deeply loyal to him, that was enough.

“Manuela said we could relocate you to your room if you're coherent. It’d be more comfortable than this, and you are stable.”

“Then we can go,” Byleth insisted, though Seteth crossed his arms and stared his beloved down with a look that could only be described as parental disappointment.

“No, you need bed rest, a lot of it. Between this and your nightly trips, you have not gotten enough sleep to properly keep yourself healthy.”

Byleth scowled, but sunk further into the bed. He was pouting.

Well, Dimitri could concede it appeared as if he were simply staring off into space with a slight frown, but he liked to think he had familiarized himself with Byleth enough to know that the man was absolutely pouting.

“What trip were you planning on going on?” He asked, perhaps if he wanted to visit somewhere specific, Dimitri could take him there. Though, only once he was sure Byleth was healthy enough to do so.

“Family matters,” Seteth cut in before Byleth managed a response.

“Family matters?” Dimitri found himself staring at Seteth and Flayn a bit more carefully. They both had the similarities of the hair and eyes, sure, but he had never thought… 

When he looked down at Byleth, the man sighed, but nodded, “It's complicated. He’s… more or less my Uncle?”

Huh.

Guess Dimitri knew who he’d have to get the favor of now.

Byleth yawned, his voice began to slur again, “Gonna be a dragon.”

Dimitri chuckled and brushed a lock of hair from his face, “You sure are, beloved.”

He turned his attention to Seteth, who looked like he wanted to crawl out of his skin. The man took things too literally, he supposed.

“Seteth, if I may,” Dimitri set Byleth’s hand down over his ribcage and stood, “You know I am courting the professor, yes?”

Seteth snapped out of whatever caused him to freeze, and massaged the bridge of his nose, “Oh  _ yes, _ I am well aware.”

“Seeing as you are his family, what may I do to obtain your favor and blessing of our partnership?” Dimitri bowed, while Seteth did not raise Byleth, he was still family apparently, and deserved respect all the same.

“You can start by helping us carry him back to his room, and then forget  _ everything _ he told you.”

“No. It was important to Byleth that-”

“Do not tell  _ anyone _ then,” Seteth hissed, “This is to stay between us in this room, do you understand? If you let any of what he may have told you out into the public, there would be dire consequences for him, Flayn, and I. I do not care how much you trust this person, there are secrets here that can never be told.”

Dimitri could imagine the kind of havok that’d be caused if it was ever found out the Archbishop didn't have a heart.

No, Byleth  _ did _ have a heart. Describing him as heartless tasted dirty on his tongue, the man was anything but. He reached out to a monster, and brought him back into the light. No  _ heartless _ person would ever be so selfless.

Even so. 

He nodded, “I understand.”

Dimitri was careful not to jostle Byleth too much as he cradled the man in his arms. Byleth blinked slowly, and aside from seeming a bit irritated, made no real complaints.

“Ah- Well- I see you have that handled on your own,” Seteth groused, he straightened the lapels of his cape and cleared his throat, “Very well, I will entrust you bring him to his room quickly and safely. Also make sure he gets at least a little sleep, in return… I will see to it that you have some privacy to… Discuss.”

“Thank you.”

Dimitri strode out of the infirmary only to be swarmed by those waiting just beyond the door.

“Professor, are you alright?”

“Teach, what in Ailell did you do this time?”

“Your Majesty, Archbishop, it is good to see you both.”

Byleth sunk further into Dimitri’s arms, his eyes comically wide at the amount of people clambering to get a look at him. He could feel the man bristling at the attention.

Seteth came to the rescue, “ _ Move, _ the lot of you, come on. His Majesty will be taking Archbishop Byleth to his room so he can finish recovering,  _ you _ all will return to your duties or await further instructions.”

Dimitri hoped the smile he shot everyone was reassuring, and made a break for the stairs to the third floor.

When he was free of the crowd, he slowed his pace so Byleth wouldn't have such a bumpy ride.

“I can walk.”

“I know.”

“... You are still carrying me.”

“I am.”

Dimitri glanced down at Byleth, he didn't seem terribly bothered, per se, but admittedly his expression was a bit hard to read.

“Is this making you uncomfortable?”

Byleth draped his head over the side of Dimitri’s arm, “No, but I do not like being treated as though I am of glass.”

“You really scared us.” Dimitri murmured as he climbed the stairs.

“It was not my intention.”

“Byleth?”

“Yes?”

“You… Sounded certain that we would die if we went to Enbarr, are they planning a coup?”

Byleth closed his eyes, “No. You were killed before you even got to Enbarr.”

Dimitri decided to stop correcting Byleth on them ‘dying’, and just went with the flow, “Alright, who killed us?”

“I do not know, but they are affiliated with the same people Solon and Kronya were.”

Dimitri froze.

He would remember those names for a very,  _ very _ long time. He remembered the way he saw his beloved professor crumple on the ground, sobbing openly for what may have been the first time in his life. He held his dying father in his hands that day.

Or when Solon used that dark magic to seal Byleth away, the rage he felt. The sheer  _ need _ to rip that man limb from limb for daring to harm his professor.

“Dimitri.”

“Yes?”

“Grip.”

Dimitri nearly dropped Byleth when he realized his hold on the man had tightened enough to bruise.

“Byleth, oh no, I am so sorry- I forgot myself, I-”

“It's fine.”

“It is  _ not _ fine! I hurt you.”

“I am fine. If I were hurt, I would not allow you to keep carrying me.”

Dimitri didn't like that he had harmed Byleth, but he pushed it aside. The man was right, he was more than capable of freeing himself from Dimitri’s arms, if he so chose. It soothed his guilt, if only just a bit. 

He needed to be more careful, regardless. It would be so easy to genuinely hurt him if he did not stay mindful of his strength.

Dimitri adjusted his hold on the man to one arm, so he could tug back the blankets from Byleth’s neatly made bed. He wondered if someone came up to remake it after Byleth had given them all that heart attack.

He laid him down and pulled the covers up and over him.

“I am not a child.”

“I know.”

“You do not need to tuck me in.”

“I know.”

Byleth narrowed his eyes at him.

“Just… You really scared me, let me take care of you.”

“Fine.”

After receiving his permission, Dimitri did tuck the man in proper, then sat himself on the edge of the bed.

He pulled a hand down his face, a part of him really wished he had read the journal when Byleth asked him to.

“So, your heart doesn't beat, and the ‘heart’ that is keeping you alive is actually a crest stone.”

“Yes.”

Alright. He could deal with that, Byleth was alive, just as he was. Just, in a different way.

“Tell me more.”

Byleth sighed, “The crest stone is actually Sothis’ heart.”

Dimitri choked, “ _ What? _ ”

“Hm. Maybe I should have eased into that,” The man murmured behind him, “Regardless, Sothis shares my body.”

“Sothis, as in, the  _ Goddess Sothis? _ ”

“Yes.”

“What in Ailell are you talking about?”

“If you read the journal this would be far easier.”

“Yes, I am beginning to see that now.”

Dimitri turned to watch Byleth, the man had his eyes closed, largely unbothered by the weight of the words he spoke.

“You share a body with the Goddess.”

“Yes.”

“Alright, ok. Can you… See her?”

“Used to, I can hear her still though.”

“ _ Used _ to?”

“She’s been around ever since I could remember. Father always thought of her as my imaginary friend, but he seemed happy that I had a friend regardless. After Solon sent me to that… Place… Sothis and I… Became more as one. So I can no longer see her, but I still hear her.”

“What… What does she say?”

“Now? Or in general?”

Dimitri laughed at the absurdity of the question, “Uh, now?”

“She thinks you are being horribly obtuse and wishes she had a body of her own to, and I quote,  _ ‘knock some sense into you’. _ ”

Ok, fantastic. 

The Goddess thought he was a moron.

Guess Sothis really was more like a sibling than some ethereal being that knew all.

“Can she… Influence things outside of your body?”

“Used to, not anymore. She does give me the strength for Divine Pulses.”

“Divine  _ what? _ ” Dimitri could feel a headache coming on. This was preposterous, absolutely ridiculous.

Yet, he couldn't bring himself not to take every word Byleth spoke as fact. One, he trusted the man beyond what was probably considered healthy, but also, he had never once led them astray. He knew Byleth would never lie to them, so that only meant, what he spoke of was true.

As impossible as it seemed.

“So, how does that work? Is she possessing you? Or  _ can _ she possess you?”

Byleth snorted, “No. She can speak through me, but cannot influence my body without my willingness to do so. Even then, I am still in control, but allowing her to do as she pleases.”

“Huh.” 

It was… So hard to believe. It really was.

Yet being able to wield the sword of the creator, his sudden appearance changes, ripping the heavens open and stepping from the darkness… It made sense he was so deeply connected to Sothis.

Even then, to have a  _ Goddess _ living inside of you? Dimitri wondered if he had even scratched the surface of all there was to know of his beloved.

“I have overwhelmed you,” Byleth mumbled, his tone was a bit off. Guilty? Perhaps frustrated.

Dimitri turned to face him again and intertwined their fingers, “It is a lot to take in at once, yes. But I believe you, I promise.”

“Would speaking directly to her help?”

The very thought of Byleth letting Sothis take over, even if Byleth was still in control, made him horribly uncomfortable. He remembered the times he himself was so out of it, he couldn't tell where he was, or who he was killing. 

Just that he needed more blood for the dead.

He shook it off and frowned, “Probably not, I… I don't imagine it’s comfortable to have someone talk through you.”

Byleth shrugged, but dropped it.

He wondered what Sothis had to say to that. Had he insulted her? 

This was  _ a lot. _

He needed time to internalize everything, and Byleth needed sleep. He really wished he had brought that journal with him.

“I’ll leave you to get some rest-” Dimitri stopped mid-sentence when his cape was grabbed, preventing him from standing fully. Bewildered, he sat back down.

“Stay.”

Dimitri wondered if Byleth felt safer with him there. Whatever he must have seen in that nightmare had to have shook him to his core, so Dimitri nodded, “Alright, I’ll go grab a chair and pull it over.”

“No. Stay and sleep, you need rest too.”

“Ah, ok. I’ll head to the dormitory then?”

Byleth scowled at him, then lifted himself up onto his elbows. The man’s face contorted in pain and he tried to move away from him. Dimitri really wished at times like this Byleth would tell him what was going on inside his mind.

He didn't get very far before grunting and flopping back down on the bed. After a beat, Byleth raised his hand and patted the now vacant space beside him.

Oh.

_ Oh. _

“I- uh, don't think that’s really appropriate.”

Byleth rolled his eyes, then patted the bed again, with a bit more force.

“Alright, alright.”

Dimitri stood, he wanted to get out of his white armor, he doubted that would be terribly comfortable. Yet removing it before Byleth’s unwavering gaze was a bit unsettling.

“Can you uh, close your eyes or something? Or at least not stare at me?”

Byleth raised a brow, but turned his head so he looked at the overhang of the bed, and not Dimitri as he unclasped his cloak and removed his armor. Only when he was clad in the cotton undershirt and trousers, did he finally kick off his boots and carefully settle himself beside Byleth’s resting form.

He remained above the covers, something he knew Byleth snorted at him for, but he couldn't really help it. This was a lot of intimacy, very quickly. Dimitri of course was delighted, but he also was nervous. They hadn't been physically open with their affections yet, Dimitri didn't know where Byleth’s boundaries were, didn't know what scars were still painful, didn't know where he liked to be touched, if anywhere.

He was surprised, then, when Byleth moved his arm and thumped his head onto Dimitri’s chest.

It almost knocked the wind out of him.

Dimitri stiffened, terrified of startling Byleth away.

The man grunted, then adjusted his head, then again, and again. Dimitri was worried the man would give himself a concussion if he kept hitting his head against his chest.

He stopped him from doing it again with a gentle hand. Dimitri shifted a bit so he could look down at him, “What are you doing?”

“Trying to find your heartbeat.”

It was said with such a casual tone Dimitri didn't know what to make of the simple answer. So, he just adjusted himself and guided Byleth’s head to rest over his heart. The man relaxed against him then.

“It's loud,” Byleth slurred, once again falling into a sort of haze.

Dimitri chuckled, an action less because he found it funny, and more because he wasn't sure how else to respond, “Uh, sorry?”

“No, it's a  _ good _ thing. Means you're alive.”

There was something about that statement that didn't sit well with Dimitri. He moved slowly when he let his arm settle around Byleth’s shoulders, giving the man ample time to push him away or vocalize discomfort. When nothing happened, he let himself relax as well.

“You're alive too,” Dimitri responded.

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

Byleth nodded on his chest, and did not move after that. Dimitri couldn't tell if he was asleep, or just relaxing. Either way, it was important for him to do so, after whatever the hell happened, Dimitri was glad the man was taking it easy.

He heard the door click open and sighed.

Dimitri didn't want to sit up, lest he disturbed Byleth, so instead he raised a hand and pointed in the rough direction of the door.

“ **_Out._ ** ”

There was a cackle that sounded  _ suspiciously _ like Felix, then the door closed again.

He felt, more than heard, Byleth speak, “Thank you.”

Dimitri hummed, “Been getting very tired of being interrupted.”

“Not for that,” Byleth murmured, “For staying.”

“Oh,” Unsure what else to do, Dimitri patted the shoulder his hand rested on, “You're welcome.”

* * *

“I  _ really _ don’t think this is a good idea,” Sylvain’s voice lowered to a whisper as he leaned close to Dimitri.

He absolutely agreed. And yet, here they were.

Byleth’s movements were a bit slower than usual, but he was able to move around on his own just fine. However, that did not mean he was well enough to follow them to Enbarr.

“Absolutely  _ not, _ you are still recovering for that little stunt you pulled three days ago!”

For once, Dimitri absolutely agreed with Seteth’s scolding. Especially knowing they were in danger on their route to Enbarr, bringing Byleth along was just foolish. 

Byleth was unfortunately  _ very _ stubborn, and refused to take no for an answer.

Dagur bared her canines when Seteth strode too close and snarled, the man returned with a similar hiss of his own, and the wyvern chuffed, but stood down. Dimitri wondered how long Seteth had been a wyvern rider, to have such an understanding of their behavior and mannerisms.

“I am fine.”

“No, you are absolutely not. What if that happens again, and there are no trained healers nearby?”

“Manuela is coming,” Byleth supplied, and Seteth groaned.

“Not enough.”

“She healed me before, did she not?”

Seteth massaged the bridge of his nose, “You know why I am concerned, Archbishop.”

Byleth shrugged.

That did bring to attention another concern, however. If Byleth did get injured, Manuela must know of his… Situation by now. Or at least the surface level. If another healer was forced to heal him in combat, would they learn of his secret?

Seteth was right, this was too dangerous.

Dimitri turned his horse around to walk beside the wyvern and her rider, “Byleth, I agree with Seteth. If something were to happen-”

Byleth stared at him with a frown, then at the back of Dagur’s head, “I am capable of taking care of myself.”

Dimitri chuckled, “You absolutely are, but I’m worried. You still do not have all your strength back, what if you do get hurt?”

“I do not have the strength to do it again,” Byleth responded evenly. Dimitri still wasn't sure what he did before, but he knew he’d learn eventually.

“Then why come?”

“Easier if not as far back.”

Dimitri glanced at the soldiers waiting for them, a respectful distance away, then Seteth, “If you and Flayn come as well, would you be less concerned?”

The man straightened at being addressed, and tilted his head, considering. After what felt like ages, Seteth seemed to relent, “Very well. I will come, but Flayn will stay here, I know not what dangers await us, and I will not have her harmed.”

Though when he saw Flayn trotting up to them on her pegasus, with Seteth’s wyvern on her tail, it seemed the man had given up on that front as well. 

“Fine, but neither of you two will be fighting, do I make myself clear?”

“Of course, Brother.”

When Byleth did not respond, Seteth cleared his throat, “ _ Do I make myself clear,  _ Archbishop?”

Dimitri shrugged when Byleth shot him a woeful look, and trotted up to join with his people. Frankly, having others who knew Byleth’s unusual anatomy eased the concern in his mind.

Not enough for him to think this was a good idea, by any stretch of the imagination, but enough that he’d allow Byleth to come along.

* * *

Dimitri wasn't sure when the relatively small band he was leading to Enbarr grew to a small army.

Claude had joined them after the first day, with Lorenz and Hilda. When Dimitri questioned him about it, the man only responded with, “I have an interest in keeping you two alive.”

Dimitri didn't know if that was Claude for  _ ‘You are my friends and I care about you’, _ or if they were important to a scheme he had cooking. Probably both.

They didn't get as far from the Monastery as he would have liked when they pitched camp. Still, it was expected to move a bit slower with more people.

Dimitri rolled out a map, stuck to the ground with small shivs to keep it flat. Only the light of the campfire and candles illuminated them within the forest.

“If we take Gronder Field south to Merceus, we’d be able to avoid some of the mountains on our journey,” Dimitri pointed out, and scratched his chin.

Byleth squatted beside him, their arms brushed, “No. Go through Aegur territory and along the Morgaine Ravine, the ambush happens at Merceus.”

Dimitri considered it, “It’d add another week, easily, to our already pretty lengthy journey. We are not supplied well enough to go that long.”

“Hunt then, there are some forests on the way, do not break into the rations unless it is dire.”

“Alright, we’ll go around the mountains then. Is it alright for you and Seteth to be gone for so long though?”

“Garreg Mach is not defenseless.”

Dimitri nodded and rolled the map back up, sliding the small knives into a leather pouch for storage, “Very well.”

They stood as one, “I’ll go inform the troops of the change in route.”

Byleth nodded, then  _ headbutted _ his arm.

It wasn't hard, just a gentle push with his head, though as soon as the action was done, the man left him to join the others around the campfire.

He stared after the man, baffled.

What  _ was _ that? 

He shrugged it off, and went to inform everyone of their new plans. 

Dimitri hoped things would go smoothly from here on out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND WE IN FOR ANOTHER UPDATE Y'ALL!
> 
> Again thank you all for the awesome comments on the last chapters, y'all really out here makin me cry. ALSO! If anyone has a twitter or something, you can follow me here: [Link](https://twitter.com/vulturepops)
> 
> It's pretty empty now, but I'll start posting drawings and stuff there probably soon.


	5. Considering the Futures and Pasts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the meat cooked, merriment began in full form. Somebody had brought alcohol and decided now was the best time to crack some open and share. 
> 
> Dimitri had the sneaking suspicion it was Claude, given by the way he wouldn't stop smiling at everyone getting drunk off their ass.
> 
> Everyone except Byleth, that is.

Traversing mountainous regions on horseback was never easy. The animals did not care for the steep slopes or precarious footing, not that Dimitri could blame them, of course. He couldn't say he was a fan either.

While the rocky summit was easily passed within a day, it still was frustratingly slow. Dimitri did not wish to force his troops to move faster than they were able, yet with Byleth’s warning ringing in the back of his mind, he could not help but to worry for the safety of those in Enbarr. The stone gave way to lush grass, and soon, to trees that reached far above their heads. 

When the woods became too dark to see, he called for them to set up camp.

Tents were pitched, and fires were started, the black of the forest gave way to a gentle orange thrum from their blaze. Dimitri pulled his map from his steed’s saddlebag, and retreated to his tent, so he could do some planning. 

They were a bit behind schedule, even with their longer detour. Still, he imagined his courier had already made it to Enbarr, and the citizens knew he would take longer to arrive. He hoped it was not the start of a bad first impression.

There were a few routes they could, theoretically take, that would shave off a few days of their journey, but Dimitri was leery of straying too far from the path Byleth instructed. Perhaps he could run the different routes by him?

Dimitri grabbed his map and emerged from his tent. 

He must have stood too fast, as when he left his tent, his head started to pound. He shook it off, and walked to the campfire, Byleth stood as he did. Dimitri hesitated at Byleth’s stern expression, then the man ran toward him and kicked the back of his knees, and Dimitri fell with a heavy clank of metal.

Just as an arrow flew over his head.

“We are under attack!” Byleth barked, “Claude, Ashe, take to the sky and shoot who you can see. Sylvain mount up and go left, the group is relatively small, corner them in. Felix, cover him.”

The camp exploded into action. 

Dimitri was on his feet in moments, and ran to grab Areadbhar. There were shouts, and the thunder of his heartbeat in his ears, it felt like an old friend, the familiar fear and disgusting thrill battle brought. Peace was hard, battle was second nature.

He returned to Byleth’s side to intercept a swordsman’s blow to his shoulder, Dimitri adjusted his feet and swung up, pushing the man off balance, and thrust the spear into his chest. He pulled back and trusted his blind side to Byleth, they moved as one. 

A duck there, a roll, a swing. They covered each other, Byleth went low, Dimitri went high. A fatal dance for anyone that came within their sights.

As Byleth had predicted, the group was small, only consisting of about ten men. They fought well, there were some injuries, but none fatal. Dimitri only allowed himself to relax when Byleth sheathed the Sword of the Creator.

Without a word, Byleth strode past Dimitri, and squatted by one of the bodies. They were wearing simple armor, it looked old and worn. No insignias, nor any particularly telling colors either. They didn't seem to be associated with the former Empire. Probably just some usual bandits that got in far too over their heads.

Didn't realize the scope of who they were attacking until too late. He hoped the Goddess welcomed them to her side all the same.

He watched with mild curiosity as Byleth examined the body, as if expecting something unusual to happen, or to find they were not human. Ridiculous, but the way the man kept poking and prodding at them, left Dimitri to wonder.

Satisfied, apparently, Byleth stood and returned to Dimitri’s side, “Just regular people, I think.”

Dimitri nodded, and Byleth thumped his head against his upper arm again, then left to check in with everyone else.

Guess the headbutting was going to be a thing, then.

Dimitri helped with cleanup, discarding the bodies so they were not in the middle of their camp, assuring Manuela and Flayn were able to heal everyone. Though with each person he checked in on, it seemed Byleth had gotten to them first. Dimirti didn't see Byleth take any hits, but he still wanted to make sure the man was alright.

He wandered back to the center of their camp, where many members now huddled around the campfire. Some bandaged, some still tacky with blood, but all alive and in relatively high spirits.

As he studied the gathering, his gaze finally laid on Byleth. The man had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, the ends cast over the backs of those sitting on either side of him, Annette, Mercedes, Ingrid, Sylvain, Hilda… And a few others. They all huddled together under the warmth of the blanket, Byleth at the center with his arms around them, like a mother hen protecting her chicks.

He approached to inquire about the state of his health, but Annette stopped him with a finger to her lips. Dimitri hesitated, and studied Byleth.

The man was asleep,  _ actually _ asleep.

Warmth settled in the pit of his stomach, a fondness seeped through his body. Byleth was sleeping, and surrounded by those who cherished him as he did. 

Dimitri decided not to disturb him.

When morning came, they continued their journey.

Byleth, Claude, and Ashe, took to the sky. Byleth led their movements, with the other two keeping watch for any signs of other bandits. 

Dimitri wondered what it was like to fly. He never would be a wyvern rider, much less a pegasus one, he much preferred his feet on solid ground. Still though, he wondered.

Byleth took to the air like a fish to water. He showed no fear, in combat or otherwise, despite the earth being so far beneath him. Claude had the same easy-going attitude, perfectly content in the sky, free to watch the movements of those beneath him.

Dimitri wondered if Claude thought of his plans like that, high above the pawns he commanded.

Ashe was a bit less comfortable in the air, yet still showed no fear in the face of the height. Perhaps since he was, all things considered, relatively new to riding wyverns. He had yet to gain his bearings for the air, as Byleth and Claude did.

Maybe one day he’d ask if Dagur would allow him to hitch a ride with Byleth, he’d like to see what flying was like, just the once.

They made a good distance before they set up camp once more. 

Ashe and Dedue took off to hunt for them, as Byleth and Mercedes prepared the fire. The two chatted quietly, a soft smile rested on Byleth’s face when Mercedes laughed at something said. Annette joined them after a bit, helping stoke the flames with licks of magic from her palms.

Not terribly long had passed when Ashe and Dedue returned, a boar hefted upon the man’s right shoulder, three arrows sticking from the animal’s skull. Byleth directed Dedue to drop the carcass beside the fire, and the two went to work on skinning the animal and flaying its flesh to be cooked.

As the meat cooked, merriment began in full form. Somebody had brought alcohol and decided now was the best time to crack some open and share. 

Dimitri had the sneaking suspicion it was Claude, given by the way he wouldn't stop smiling at everyone getting drunk off their ass.

Everyone except Byleth, that is.

“Have you ever drank before, Professor?”

Byleth stared at the dark liquid that swirled in the tankard he held, then to Sylvain, who leaned on his shoulder with a catty grin.

“Yes.”

“Really? I wouldn't take you for the type!” Sylvain laughed, “How much can you drink?”

“Enough, I do not enjoy the taste of alcohol much.”

Sylvain patted Byleth’s shoulder, “No one drinks ale for the taste.”

“Then why drink it?” 

Dimitri chuckled to himself at the way Sylvain patted Byleth’s head.

“Let's get you drunk, and you’ll find out.”

So, Sylvain started to try and get Byleth drunk. Only really succeeding in getting drunk himself.

It brought Dimitri back to one of the passages he did read of Jeralt’s journal. Where Byleth’s mother had drunk a man under the table, much as Byleth himself was doing to Sylvain now. The arm around his shoulders became less of a friendly gesture, and more of a lifeline to keep him upright.

Dimitri wondered if Byleth looked like his mother.

He wondered if Jeralt felt the same surge of love wash over him as he did, watching the scene unfold. And, he wondered if on that night, he felt the same as Dimitri did, watching Byleth.

* * *

The headbutting thing was becoming almost normal.

Any time Byleth passed him in camp, on his way to speak to someone or mount Dagur, a gentle thump on his upper arm was felt when he walked by.

That said, Dimitri still for the life of him could not understand  _ why _ Byleth was doing this.

Claude laughed from a fallen tree he had made his bench for an evening. Dimitri, not busy with anything at the time, decided to join and sit beside him. 

“May I ask why you are laughing?”

“Honestly? Mostly it's just your face, you look so damn confused.”

Dimitri rubbed the back of his neck, “Well yes, I am. I don't really know what he’s doing, he only seems to do it to me.”

“I had a friend like him once,” Claude leaned back on his hands and swung his ankle to rest on his knee, “Weird kid, didn't talk much, but nice. He’d do that as affection, kinda like… In place of a hug or something. Not a big fan of being touched, so I guess that was his way of finding a middle ground.”

“Huh.” Was Byleth expressing affection? The thought warmed Dimitri’s heart, “Where is your friend now? I do not believe I’ve met them.”

Claude’s smile wavered, but in a blink it was back to normal, “Dead.”

“Oh, I am… You have my condolences.”

“Eh, we weren't really close or anything, died a long time ago too. No big deal.”

Dimitri didn't think he believed him, but he let the subject lay as it was. He knew the pain digging up those long dead could bring, so he was content to sit in amicable silence as he watched Byleth do his nightly rounds with everyone before they all tucked in to sleep.

When Byleth trotted past them, Claude spoke up, “Hey teach!”

The man paused, then turned to regard him curiously.

“Can I have a headbutt too?” 

Byleth narrowed his eyes at him, looked him up and down, then turned on his heel, “No.”

Claude made a show of being offended and hurt, Dimitri chuckled and patted him on the back.

* * *

The days seemed to blend and blur together as they traveled. They came upon a lively little stretch of land. If Dimitri’s map was still correct, this was House Aegir’s territory.

The land was lush with farms and the village at its heart seemed to be in excellent shape. Dimitri could see what was likely the lord’s mansion utop a hill just above the village itself. With their food supply starting to run a bit thin, Dimitri decided taking a small detour into the village for a night would be good for everyone.

The people celebrated his decision.

As they approached, Dimitri was a bit surprised the town itself seemed to be more of a fishing port than the hilled farmlands had him believe. Though, given it was built along an ocean, it made sense much of their wealth would come from fishing.

It was interesting, some people recognized him immediately, some only took them as a wary group of mercenaries, with shiny gear. Dimitri, in a way, wished people would mistake him for something other than royalty more often.

There was a short whistle and rustle of fabric beside him. When he turned to regard Byleth, the man lowered his hand just as Dagur took off to the sky, circling above them. Shortly after, Ashe and Seteth followed suit, their wyverns flying above them as they entered the town properly.

“What was that for?”

Byleth hummed, “Dagur doesn't like groups of people.”

“She battles just fine with us.”

“ _ Civilians, _ she doesn't like civilians,” He clarified and made a grabbing motion, “Too touchy.”

Dimitri laughed.

“They don't know boundaries,  _ any _ warrior knows not to run up to wyverns. Commonfolk are dumb, and see something and want to pet it without any sort of permission or warning.”

Well, when put like that, Dimitri couldn't say he wholly disagreed. Though when he glanced over his shoulder to Claude, he noticed his snowy mount still walked alongside him, seemingly content. 

“Nendruil likes attention,” Byleth supplemented, “Like rider like wyvern, I suppose.”

“Nendruil?”

“That's his name, the wyvern. It means something in Almarian, I think?”

“Huh, what of Dagur? Does her name mean anything?”

“She’s pointy.”

Dimitri chuckled, he supposed that much was obvious, “Fair enough.”

As their conversation petered out, two children bounded up to the side of his horse. They were well dressed, but likely not of a noble family.

“What's your horse’s name? She is very pretty,” The younger of the two, with dark curly hair spoke up, “Can I pet?”

“At least they asked permission,” He heard Byleth grouse beside him as he swung off his horse’s back.

“He doesn't actually have a name, and yes, you can pet him. Be gentle though.”

“You should call him Juniper!” The child exclaimed, and ran to the otherside of Dimitri, where he had the horse’s reins in hand. The kid patted the horse’s neck and giggled.

“What? No! He’s a  _ boy, _ he can't be called Juniper!” The eldest exclaimed, with similar dark hair, Dimitri imagined them to be brothers.

“Yeah he can!”

“No way, he should be called something strong, like, uh, like Axe!”

“Juniper’s prettier!”

“No way!”

Byleth snorted, “Just call him Juniper Axe and be done with it.”

The two kids startled at Byleth’s even voice, likely didn't notice the man standing on the other side of the steed they were so enamoured with. He stared at them quietly, and the children shied away from him and closer to Juniper Axe.

It was blink and you miss it, but Dimitri could have sworn he saw Byleth frown when the kids shrunk at his presence. The man turned and left, joining the rest of the group as they all dismounted their respective rides and got everything together so travel through a town would be easier.

“Where are- Oh for the love of the Goddess, boys  _ please _ don't bother these folk!”

A woman, likely their mother, trotted forward, her hair was long and dark, though not curly like the brother’s. She had warm honey eyes and a stern expression. Dimitri did not envy the scolding the two children were about to get.

She halted in her tracks as soon as Dimitri turned to her, eyes wide.

“Don't worry Ma’am, the two are quite alright, in fact, they helped me name my horse here.”

“Y-your Majesty! I am so so sorry for the trouble those two have caused!” She swooped down, picked up the youngest, and grabbed the elder by the wrist.

“It wasn't a bother, really. They are quite polite young men.”

“Oh um, thank you, Your Majesty,” The woman took a couple steps back, “Thank the King boys, he was being very patient with you.”

“Thank you!”

“Thanks.”

The woman was then quick to scurry away.

Dimitri wondered if he frightened her or something. His hand moved to the edge of his leather eyepatch without thinking. 

_ Ah. _

He was unable to wallow in his self-pity much longer as a familiar voice called out to them.

“My friends! What a pleasant surprise! You should have sent word you were coming, I would have arranged a banquet for you all.”

“Ferdinand, it is great to see you,” Warmth filled Dimitri’s heart at the sight of the man, it had been a long time since he had seen him. The bridge, he believed, was the last place he saw him. When bloodlust still fanned his flames.

“Your Majesty, you look much healthier now,” The man came up to him and tossed a friendly arm around his shoulders, pulling him down a bit to match his height, “Less like a wet rat, and more like a man. I’m glad.”

Felix’s laughter could be heard even from the back of the group. He sounded like a strangled goose.

“I… I do not think my manor has enough room for all of you,” He mused, gentle eyes scanning the group. Dimitri could almost hear the man do a head count.

“It is quite alright, we had anticipated staying at an inn, if you have a vacancy.”

“You expect me to let the  _ King _ sleep in an inn?”

“Yes?”

Ferdinand clicked his tongue, though perked when a splash of green curles made her way to the front of their group, “Flayn! It has been ages, you left me on edge with your last letter, how has their courtship progressed?”

The woman froze, buried her head in her hands, and immediately went in the opposite direction.

“I am going to take a guess that it is regarding Byleth and I?”

“Oh yes! We write quite frequently and she was telling me all about your two’s mishap, but she was quite confident you’d make it up.”

“We did,” Dimitri could not even bring himself to be that irritated, “I am properly courting Byleth.”

“Congratulations, I am sure you two will be happy together. Then now, about your sleeping arrangements…”

* * *

Despite the young lord’s anguish, Dimitri and his friends all holed up in an inn, with only a few going to stay with him. Dimitri was adamant on staying with the bulk of his people, and insisted he was perfectly happy sleeping in a temporary room for the night.

Byleth still seemed on edge, but without any proper privacy, Dimitri had yet a chance to inquire.

He was glad to see him eating though.

Dedue sat on his right, Ingrid on his left, Byleth was at a nearby table with the familiar faces of some soldiers, as well as Felix and Sylvain. It was nice to see the man actually in the company of others, Dimitri wondered if Byleth got lonely as he did, in his time at Garreg Mach. Sure, he was surrounded by people, much like he himself was, but how many were friends? How many could he confide in? Laugh with?

Steal the food of when one was turned away yelling at another from their table?

He chuckled as Byleth swiftly and quietly swapped bowls with Sylvain, who currently was shouting at a soldier seated near the end of their table. It was friendly banter, but with enough heat to it that the man didn't keep an eye on his food as Byleth ate his serving as well.

“There it is, told you.” 

Dimitri snapped from his stupor at Ingrid’s voice, she leaned on her hand and a coy grin snaked her lips. 

Dedue beside him chuckled, “I know.”

“What?”

Ingrid pointed to her mouth, “Your smile, it’s different when you look at his Grace, softer.”

Dimitri coughed into his hand and resumed eating, “Yes, well, he is a great man.”

“Oh he absolutely is,” Ingrid agreed, “I love him too, but the way you look at him is sooo… Well, it's nice. I’m glad Byleth has someone like you courting him.”

“This will be interesting,” Dedue mumbled beside him, it brought Dimitri’s attention back to Byleth, where a woman made a place for herself at his side.

Even from here, Dimitri could tell he was wildly uncomfortable, and the way Sylvain’s eyes narrowed at her spoke only of trouble. He remained where he was though, Byleth was a grown adult, and certainly was not helpless. If Byleth wanted her gone, he would make it clear. So, he took a sip of his rum and watched.

“Hello there, haven't seen you around here before.”

Byleth grunted.

“A man of few words, I see. I prefer it that way, honestly,” The woman’s long blond hair was tied away from her face with beaded leather. Her pose was in such a way that could not have been comfortable, but left her smooth curves plain for all to see. She was lovely, Dimitri could admit, but not his type.

“I see you are a man of action, you are quite well built,” She lowered her voice so Dimitri couldn't hear the rest of her words. 

Byleth scooted away, but the woman followed him with her body, cozying up beside him. Almost forcing him into what could loosely be described as an embrace. Her mouth moved, but Dimitri couldn't pick out exactly what she was saying.

Sylvain leaned around Byleth, and purred, “Well if that's all you want honey, surely I can provide. Such a woman like yourself shouldn't have to spend the night alone.”

Dimitri bristled, was the woman trying to seduce Byleth? He put down the spoon he was holding, lest he bend the metal in his hand. He wanted nothing more than to go over there and drag Byleth away from her, but he kept himself where he was. Dimitri was a King, he had a duty to protect those beneath his rule, never to harm them.

That, and he trusted Byleth, he knew the man would never betray his faith. 

Still irritated him, nonetheless.

It dawned on him that Felix was watching the exchange. The man observed the woman with a cold eye, but continued to eat and drink, despite his lover’s flirtations. Dimitri always thought they were exclusive, or if nothing else, Felix was not one to share.

“Oh come on,” The woman draped herself over his shoulder, “ _ Anything, _ just introdu-”

Byleth stood and immediately left the table, nearly causing the woman to fall to the floor. She glared after the black cloak, only for her eyes to widen when Byleth sat himself on the other side of Dimitri, and grabbed his hand. 

Dimitri welcomed any sort of affection, and laced their fingers together. Byleth’s hand was warm against his own. 

“Oh no, I think Sylvain is going to cry,” Ingrid snorted, her mouth partly full of the fish stew they were served for the evening.

Dimitri leaned over to look around Byleth’s shoulder, Sylvain’s face was red, and he had a hand over his mouth. The woman had already left the table, and only a moment passed before Sylvain started laughing hard enough to  _ actually _ cry. Felix chuckled along with him.

He must have looked confused, as Byleth spoke up, “She wanted to have sex with me in exchange for introducing you to her, in a favorable light. She wanted to marry you, I guess.”

Ingrid joined in with Sylvain’s laughter.

“Ah, very bluntly put, thank you Byleth,” He sighed, and rubbed his thumb along Byleth’s knuckles. With gloves in the way, Dimitri couldn't see the scars that wrapped around his fingers. 

* * *

Dimitri wondered if sharing a bed would become routine for them as well. 

Byleth watched him as he unclasped his cloak, and started to remove his armor. It had taken the man no time to strip to his undergarments when they walked into the room together. Dimitri still felt self conscious when he stripped down, but ultimately swallowed his nerves and finished undressing until he was clad in just his cotton underclothes.

Their weapons rested beside their nightstand, Byleth’s dagger glinted a brilliant blue in the candlelight.

He sat on the edge of the bed, beside his beloved, “What has been troubling you? You’ve been on edge ever since those bandits attacked.”

“We were supposed to be safe, the ambush should have happened at-”

Dimitri cupped his beloved’s cheek, “It was hardly an ambush, Byleth, just some people that got in too over their head.”

“You died.”

“I didn't, see? I am alive and well.”

“The arrow, it went right through your skull, you didn't die immediately you  _ suffered _ so much-”

Dimitri grabbed Byleth’s hands before they reached his hair, this was something they needed to talk about. Things didn't add up.

“Explain it to me, Byleth.”

“I am the vassal of the Progenitor God.”

“Go on.”

“I have Sothis’s control over our world, to a point. I am able to turn back the hands of time, use a Divine Pulse, to go back in time and keep- keep things from happening.”

It made sense, Dimitri supposed, that Byleth would have some of the power Sothis did. So, he could go back in time, alright. 

But that didn't explain- Oh.

Dimitri’s eye widened as he realized, that it explained so much. It explained _ everything. _

Byleth’s impeccable tactics in battle, how he could be so sure of enemy movements, the way he fretted over them after hard-won battles. 

That must have meant they really did die in some future, on their way to Enbarr. To that extent, Dimitri died when that arrow meant for his head hit it’s mark. Or, some version of him.

“You’ve watched us all die before, haven't you?”

Byleth did not respond, but Dimitri knew the answer.

There were endless questions Dimitri wanted to know, so many things he wished to learn, but the hard set of Byleth’s brow, and the practiced numbness in his eyes… He knew he was in no state for that. Instead, Dimitri pulled the man close with an arm around his shoulders, and without thinking, kissed the crown of his head.

“Oh, Beloved…” He rested his cheek on soft hair, “I believe you, and I trust you. Trust me as well, we will get through this, alright? Together.”

Byleth nodded against his chest, and pulled back. Oftentimes Dimitri felt as though the man before him could see through him every time their eyes met. Yet, something about this was different. It was not guarded, just a simple warmth to them Dimitri had come to adore.

Dimitri brought his other hand up, “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

They leaned into one another, Dimitri could smell the soft scent of pine from Byleth’s hair as it fell in his face.

A headache bloomed in his skull when Byleth pulled back, then in a smooth motion, took his dagger from the bedside table, and threw it at the door. The blade sunk into the wood with a thunk, followed shortly by a surprised yelp.

“I take you are busy,” Seteth’s voice was strained, “We shall speak tomorrow, then.”

Dimitri stared at the dagger lodged in the door, stunned. Had… Had Byleth used his magic to keep them from being interrupted again?

He opened his mouth to inquire when he faced his beloved again, but was only met with a tug and lips crashed against his own. Byleth’s teeth nicked his lip, it was rough, unpracticed, and messy. 

Dimitri pulled back and laughed, “Warn me next time, so I can  _ actually _ kiss you back.”

Byleth’s cheeks flushed red, and he nodded, “Can I kiss you?”

“Of course.”

The second time their lips met, it was far sweeter. Byleth’s lips were chapped from their travels, but he imagined his were none better. His beloved was tentative, following Dimitri’s lead as he adjusted his head to get a better angle to keep their noses from squishing against each other.

They parted.

The kiss was chaste, but left Dimitri wanting more. Dimitri got the impression Byleth was never romantically close to anyone, given by the way he touched his lips with furrowed brows. Or, maybe he was, but it had been a long time.

Whatever lovers he may have had in the past were just that, in the past, Dimitri was glad he could be just a bit greedy, and have this part of Byleth to himself. 

He leaned down and brushed their foreheads together, “Lets get some sleep, we still have days of travel ahead of us.”

Byleth hummed, “Yes, we do.”

* * *

Dimitri jolted upright, the pouding of screams and war rang fresh in his mind. His breath was shallow, he couldn't breathe, he needed air, he-

Warmth enveloped his side, and he jerked away from the source, his eye adjusting to the dark of wherever he was. Something was in the bed with him, he was in danger, he needed to- he… 

Byleth, still half asleep, clung to his middle, hair disheveled and despite his clear exhaustion, trying his damndest to blink awake. He was alive, real. Beside him, everything was fine. Dimitri relaxed, and laid back down, pressing his head to Byleth’s chest.

He was warm, he could feel the rise and fall of his breaths, the slight hitch when he tightened his grip around him. 

_ The lack of a heartbeat. _

Panic laced his mind for a moment, he was dead. Dimitri failed him, failed to protect the one man he adored above all else. Then, memories came flooding back, the knowledge of who Byleth truly was. 

Byleth was alive, just in a different way. 

There were hands on his shoulder, gently pushing him. Dimitri relaxed his grip, and allowed himself to be flipped over, away from Byleth’s chest. He got up on his elbow, worried Byleth had noticed how he stiffened, but was brought back down to the sheets with the man curling around his back. 

Byleth’s head rested on the back of his neck, and his arms wrapped around his ribs. After a couple moments, Dimitri allowed himself to relax, and interlaced their fingers. The gentle push of Byleth’s chest with each breath he took served to calm him of his fear. 

“Sorry for waking you up,” He murmured to the wall he faced.

“It is fine, are you ok now?”

“Yeah, I am. Though, if it’d be alright, can you… uh… Talk? So I know you're still-” Dimitri cut himself off before he said ‘alive’, and instead finished with, “Still there.”

“Okay. My dad liked to sing, when he was still alive. He’d get tipsy with the other mercenaries and they’d sing together. They all sucked, none of them could carry a tune to save their lives. But it made them happy, it was the first time I learned that people do not have to be good at something to enjoy it.

“All the mercenaries I grew up with, even after father passed, they stayed with me. A lot of them are actually knights now, and the ones that aren't, stay at the monastery anyway. I always thought they disliked me, honestly. I didn't realize until after he passed that they cared for me as much as they did Jeralt.”

Byleth continued to talk, rambling about the first things that came to his mind, no doubt. Hearing his voice lulled the fear in his bones, and soothed his anxiety. Even without the beat of a heart, Byleth was still there, with him, alive.

As sleep overtook his body, he could hear Byleth singing something. He couldn't understand the words, but it was warm, and felt safe.

Just like Byleth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HECK Y'ALL ARE SO NICE!
> 
> I am so happy you folks are enjoying this so far, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I am writing it! Your comments are the best.
> 
> So, thank you for reading this chapter, and feel free to check out my twitter if y'all interested! [Link](https://twitter.com/vulturepops)


	6. Scars may not heal, but their wounds do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hush settled over the city, many people almost frozen in place at the sight of him. None spoke, some went inside, others hurried along their business. Shame pricked up his spine, of course the people would be frightened of him, after all he had done.
> 
> *TW - this chapter starts to get into some heavy topics of loathing and self harm, proceed with caution! *

Dimitri woke to the scent of pine. 

His eyelids were heavy, though after blinking a few times, he began to feel more aware. Sunlight filtered through the window, the beams of light trickled their way to the wooden floorboards of the room, and a small section of the heavy woven blanket.

When he moved to sit up, a weight on his shoulder and chest stopped him.

Byleth had his head cushioned by his collarbone, the upper half of his torso and arm draped along his chest and ribcage. Each breath Dimitri took tickled the light hair just beneath his chin. He pressed a kiss to Byleth’s crown, and allowed himself to relax.

It was early enough that Dimitri could spare a little longer to idly lay there before they would have to rise and get moving. He was a bit disappointed, that from the angle they were at, he could not see Byleth’s face as he slept. Though, knowing the man was actually asleep was enough for Dimitri to remain still.

He entertained himself by counting the slow breaths Byleth took. Perhaps he should have felt embarrassed by the way they were tangled up in eachother, but… He wasn't. He was quite content, truth be told. Maybe it was indecent, but in the early haze of the morn, Dimitri couldn't find it in himself to care. 

Byleth was asleep and content, Dimitri was happy for that.

A gentle knock on the door brought him from his idle musings. Byleth shifted against him, grumbling something into the cotton of Dimitri’s shirt. 

Ah, well. There went his sleep.

“Who is it?” Dimitri called, given Byleth was stubbornly pretending to be asleep, he’d take up the duty of responding to the knock. It could be important.

Green curls peeked out from the door, Flayn had her eyes closed, “It is I! Are you decent?”

Byleth snorted a rumbling laugh, clearly not entirely awake, and Dimitri chuckled with him.

“We are, Flayn, what is the matter?”

She opened her eyes and bounded into the room, “Brother wishes to speak to Byleth, he has news of what he asked his friend to look into.”

Byleth stirred and actually sat up, one eye remained closed, and there was a spot of dried drool on his cheek, “Yuri wrote back?”

Flayn giggled at his disheveled appearance, “Yes he did. Though you may want to um, clean up a bit. You look terrible.”

Byleth opened his other eye for what seemed to be the sole purpose of leveling her with a half-hearted glare.

“Nobody wakes up looking good,” Byleth drawled, then glanced over his shoulder to Dimitri, tilted his head, then turned to Flayn and added, “Except Dimitri.”

Flayn’s giggles descended into actual laughter. Dimitri felt heat rush to his cheeks, and he covered his undoubtedly blushing face with his hands.

“I will leave you two to get dressed then! Seteth wishes to talk at Ferdinand’s home, more privacy. I’ll take you over there, just come out when you're ready!”

Flayn danced out the door and closed it quietly behind her.

“Beloved you can't just _say_ things like that,” Dimitri laughed despite himself.

Byleth turned to face him, “Why not?”

It was such a genuinely ernest and confused question, Dimitri didn't have the heart to tell him it was embarrassing. So instead, he pushed himself upright and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead. Byleth’s brows furrowed, likely confused even more, but Dimitri just smiled and oriented himself to slide from the bed.

Byleth was quick to follow, and the two dressed in silence.

Dimitri absently brushed some of the man’s hair with his fingers, smoothing it out to look less like a mess. His hair was a little greasy, perhaps they should take Flayn’s advice and utilize the baths while they all were here. 

They could do that after they spoke with Seteth, or, after Byleth spoke with him. Dimitri was unsure what the information Byleth had asked to be looked into, but he imagined it would be something meant to keep under lock and key.

Byleth was telling him about himself, bit by bit. Dimitri did not need to know everything at once, he knew the man would tell him as he was ready. Still, a part of him wished he could just know everything now, partly curious, but also genuinely he wanted to be able to support Byleth. Knowledge was power, at the end of the day.

As they left the room, Byleth yanked the dagger from the door it had been embedded in, and sheathed it. He squinted at the thin hole left in the wood, Dimitri couldn't discern what he was thinking, so instead he placed a hand between his shoulders and guided him out from the room, “I’ll cover whatever cost there will be to fix it.”

“I have money.”

“I know, but I want to do this for you.”

Byleth did not respond, but his body language spoke of a stubbornness Dimitri had come to find endearing. Dimitri would have to be quick to make sure he was the one to pay off the door, still, it could wait until after Byleth spoke to Seteth.

“Ah good, you both are up!” Flaun jumped from a seat she had taken in the dining area of the inn. 

She had a tankard between her small hands, and despite knowing she was very much of drinking age, a part of him did not want her drinking ale. She may be physically old enough, but spiritually? 

Goddess forbid.

She offered the drink to Byleth, now that it was closer, he could smell it was not alcohol, but rather some sort of tea. He didn't recognize the scent though.

“It’ll help the pain,” She supplied, and Byleth took it gratefully.

_That,_ however, was not something Dimitri was willing to let go.

“Pain?” He frowned at the way Byleth seemed to shrink against the mug he held between his gloved hands.

“Nothing to be concerned about,” He responded, tone dull and even, before drinking the thing in one go.

That was absolutely a lie, he knew the man well enough to know that much. Flayn seemed to sense the tension between them, and coughed into her fist, “Ah well, we must be going! Brother is not very patient, y’know.”

Dimitri nodded to her, and the three left the inn.

It was definitely not over though, he’d be sure to confront Byleth about the apparent pain he had been dealing with, and did not inform Dimitri of. Things of his past he was willing to let Byleth take his time on, but matters of the present? Especially when in regard to his health? 

_An entirely different matter._

* * *

  
  


“I will be sure you all have the utmost privacy, in fact, I can stand guard outside the room for you!”

“That will not be necessary, Ferdinand,” Seteth pulled out a deep red chair from a desk in the middle of the study, and took a seat.

“Ah, well. Do call if you need anything then, I am but a shout away!”

“Thank you, Ferdinand,” Byleth spoke up before Seteth could, offering a mild smile in the young lord’s direction. The man perked up and closed the door behind him.

“Now, then,” Seteth pulled out the scroll he must have received recently.

Dimitri was both surprised and honored to be allowed to stay, though he believed that was mostly in thanks to Byleth stating that he would. Perhaps it was, in a way, him trying to be more open with his current problems. He was still a bit irritated to find out he was in pain from _Flayn,_ but he couldn't fault Byleth entirely.

He never was one to speak of his own struggles.

Dimitri pulled a chair up beside his beloved and sat down, Flayn perched beside her brother on the other side of the desk.

Byleth grabbed the scroll and unwound it, his eyes scanned over the words, his face grew more and more confused. Perhaps distressed? It was a bit hard to discern the two, either way, he was not happy with what he read.

“Seteth, can you confirm this?”

“Yes, what Yuri proposes is in fact accurate, as far as my memory serves. However, Flayn and I left long before it fell to ruin.”

“So… Then the god at the altar there is…”

“A Nabatean, most likely, yes.” 

Byleth rolled the paper back up, a frown settled on his face, “Why though? It does not make sense, if the Abyss was originally built by them, then why worship one of their own?”

“Humans often worshiped… uh... _them._ Their lifespans rendered them gods in their mind, even if only one truly had the power to take such a title. Until, well… You know.”

Byleth massaged the sides of his head, though frankly, much of this conversation went over Dimitri’s head. He had read once, about an ancient race of mythical people known as the Nabeteans, but it was so brief and such a long time ago, it had long since been pushed from his mind. Dimitri wondered if humans worshiped those fictional beings many, many years ago.

It was interesting to find the Abyss was built before the Monastery though, he had very vague memories of the place when he still was a student there. He would have to read up on them, he decided, though still unsure what this meant to Byleth.

Dimitri turned to Byleth, “Why is it important?”

From the corner of his eye, Seteth bristled.

“It is… Complicated,” Byleth frowned, and stared at his hands, some beats passed before he slumped, “I will explain it another day, when we have more time. There is.. There is much to go over.”

“Byleth…”

“I will _not_ keep secrets from him, Seteth,” Byleth’s tone was uncharacteristically cold, enough so that even Flayn flinched under the hiss.

Seteth turned his attention to Dimitri, regarded him for a couple beats, then looked back to Byleth, “Words that are spoken, cannot be taken back. Are you sure this is wise?”

“I trust him.”

Seteth nodded, “Very well.”

The man stood, and left the room, Flayn on his heels. She spared an apologetic glance at them both, before the door clicked softly behind her.

“Does Seteth find me untrustworthy?” Dimitri could not help but feel a pang of hurt from the accusation, as if he would ever in his life speak something to endanger his beloved. Or anyone else, for that matter.

“No, he quite likes you, actually,” Byeth grunted, largely unbothered by the previous spat, “However, there are many secrets about this land that have been guarded viciously. Revealing them to the world would put lives at stake.”

“I see,” Dimitri chuckled and brought Byleth’s gloved hand to his lips, “You seem to get tangled up in the strangest of matters.”

Byleth smiled, a gentle warmth filled his eyes, “I suppose.”

* * *

They were packed. All mounts were accounted for, and the group prepared to leave. Dimitri mounted Juniper Axe, and turned his steed to the entrance of the town while he waited for the rest of the people to finish preparing.

Dimitri was still a fair bit slighted by Byleth. Before Dimitri even had a chance to approach the women at the counter that ran the inn, Byleth actually _ran_ past him, slaped what had to have been ten gold pieces down, and stated it was to repair the damaged door.

He looked over his shoulder then, and a mischievous smile Dimitri had never seen crawled along his lips. The woman that took the money seemed very confused, but thankful all the same. Dimitri would find a way to get back at him for that.

He was brought from his sulking, by a joyous pair of voices laughing.

Flayn and Ferdinand spoke to each other animatedly, she had such a bright smile on her face, it was sweet. She giggled again at something he said, though Ferdinand seemed blissfully unaware as to why she was.

His attention shifted to Byleth, he stood on the further edge of the town’s territory, Dagur beside him, she was still as he adjusted the straps for her saddle. The wyvern snapped at Nendruil when he strayed too close, he was swift to cow away. She shook her body, and Byleth covered his mouth. 

While too far away to hear, Dimitri imagined he was laughing.

Ferdinand wished them all the greatest of luck on their journey west. Dimitri could understand the longing in his eyes to go with them, yet, as a lord, the needs of his people were to always come first. It was something Dimitri was all too familiar with.

So they left, and traveled alongside towering mountains. Their peaks lost amongst the clouds. He wondered if they reached the heavens, where the Goddess was said to live. Then, he turned his gaze to Byleth, flying a fair bit ahead of them with Claude and Seteth.

Though, he supposed the Goddess was far closer than anyone would have ever thought.

The further west they went, the more the repairs for the carnage of war were needed. So little time had truly passed since the end of it. He wondered if there would be anything he could do to repair the smaller towns, affected by the bloodshed around them. 

Trees were burnt, as if a great fire had swept through the ashen forest they traversed through. An eerie quiet settled over the group.

Dimitri knew this was not his own doing, he did many things he was disgusted with himself for, but he knew whatever happened to the once forest was not from his direct action. Perhaps indirectly from the war, yet as Juniper Axe sneezed when a bit too much ash was kicked up by the flap of Ashe’s wyvern rising to join the other three… It seemed far too fresh.

Beneath the soot, there were no signs of growth yet. If this truly had happened during the war, saplings and signs of life would undoubtedly be seen from the carnage, right? He urged his people to pick up the pace, something about that forest did not sit right with him.

* * *

A week had passed when they finally made it to the gates of Enbarr.

There were some areas of the bridge that passed over the rushing water beneath that were crumbled and worn. Yet the structure was still in overall fantastic shape. Dimirti was pleased, though the further they got in, the worse it would likely be.

The gates were meant to withstand war afterall, the city beyond its protection, was not.

The heavy wooden door creaked open when he and his people stopped at the end of the bridge. There was shouting above them from the watchtower and Dimitri hoped his courrier made it safely.

The inside of the protective walls were not as bad as he expected, but far from at a place Dimitri felt easy. Many buildings were still in the process of being rebuilt, some still crumbed, brick and stone left in piles where a home may have once been. Guilt ate away at his mind.

He tried so hard to keep from damaging the city when they fought, yet, the beasts Huburt summoned did not have the same care. The man had grown desperate, willing to destroy his own people to protect Edelgard. Dimitri wondered, if under different circumstances, he would have done the same for Byleth.

He shook the horrid thought from his mind, and dismounted his steed. 

A hush settled over the city, many people almost frozen in place at the sight of him. None spoke, some went inside, others hurried along their business. Shame pricked up his spine, of course the people would be frightened of him, after all he had done.

His saving grace, however, came in a trio of natives there, all smiles and open arms.

Except Lindhardt, who seemed far too tired to be bothered with the trivialities of greeting people, unlike his two companions, Dorothea and Caspar.

Dorothea was quick to embrace him, catching the king quite off guard. He patted her shoulders awkwardly, and she pulled back with a massive grin, “Oh I am so glad you are alright! When your courrier arrived to inform us of an emergency, we were so worried.”

Dimitri was touched, warmth filled his chest, “Thank you, Dorothea, your concern flatters me.”

She snorted and gently pushed at his upper arm, “No need to be so formal, your Majesty, but if you do it again I will send Caspar after you, do not test me.”

Dimitri chuckled, especially since said man was nearly squeezing the life from Byleth. He had the other wrapped in a hug tight enough to lift him from the ground. Despite it looking rather painful, Byleth did not appear bothered, and instead patted the tuft of blue hair that had buried itself into his chest.

“Well,” Dorothea hummed, “Maybe I’ll send Petra instead, she’d be far less likely to hug you to death.”

“This little reunion is touching and all, but can we take it somewhere other than the middle of the street? People are staring.”

Caspar set Byleth down at the sound of Lindhardt tired voice, “Yeah, yeah. Come on! Dorothea already prepared sleeping arrangements for you all!”

Panic seized Dimitri’s chest.

Were they to stay in Edlegard’s palace? He couldn't- He couldn't go there. Not yet, he wasn't ready. He’d rather sleep on the street than set foot in those bloodstained halls. There was a tap on his armor, and he glanced down at Dorothea, her brows furrowed, and she spoke, “I set up arrangements at an inn further on, it is right next to the opera house.”

She spoke no more, but a sense of relief washed over him. He wondered if his fear had shown on his face.

“Thank you, truely.”

She waved him off with a smile, “Oh please. It was no big deal, but what is a big deal, is that you _reek._ Please take the opportunity to relax and use the bathhouse.”

There were a few scandalized gasps from civilians passing by, and they hurried away, as if expecting him to lash out and attack Dorothea. If Dorothea saw the distress on his face, she didn't comment, instead, she took to petting Juniper Axe, and cooing at the horse. 

Perhaps he was overthinking things.

Byleth followed after Caspar, so Dimitri found it fit to join him. They had their own wyvern stables alongside their equine ones. Dimitri was glad Byleth would have somewhere to allow Dagur to rest.

When the mounts were all stabled up, fed, and comfortable, Dorothea led them to the inn. It was just beside the opera house as she had said, what did neglected to mention, however, was how massive the place was for just a simple inn. The building was square, with the center of it open for a garden, behind the building were walled off areas for the bathhouses. 

Like everything in Enbarr, there was a certain elegant flare to it. Dimitri hoped the people would be able to reclaim the pride they so clearly once had for themselves.

* * *

Dimitri let the soldiers and his friends take over the bathhouse first. He wanted time to gather his thoughts and plot the next course of action. He’d need to gather the people and do a speech, that much he expected, but words were just that, words.

He needed to show through actions that he would be the best king he could be for them, he would work tirelessly so they may heal from the scars of the war. So they could be free from the shackles of a city in ruin.

However, earning trust of one, much less many people, was not easy. He buried his head in his hands, what could he do? How could he prove to them he had changed? That he would not needlessly slaughter them? That he cared for them as much as he did any of his other people.

Perhaps he could consult Byleth, the man had an unusual way with people. Even those initially cold to him, much like Dimitri had been when they first met. The man somehow managed to find a way into their hearts. To become precious to so many, a man people would fight for tirelessly.

He commanded loyalty unlike he had ever seen, yet for the life of him, he couldn't figure out how. For someone who came off as so awkward and cold at times, how could he manage to become so adored?

Perhaps commanding was not the right word, as he never asked for their trust and faith, yet in never expecting it, it was given to him freely.

What won Dimitri over?

He pulled his head from his hands and pondered the question. What was it that made Dimitri realize he could trust him, that the man was worth the world and more? 

When Dimitri first met Byleth he… Well, he disliked him greatly. He found the man despicable, someone that could kill without any remorse or second thought. He cared not for his students, only there from some sort of obligation. He never showed emotions, numb to all that was around him. 

At the time, Dimitri wondered if the man would care if any of them died under his command. He wondered if he would grieve, or just continue on as if nothing happened. As if a life had not been lost.

Yet… As they went through the year, Dimitri slowly began to realize he was wrong, so very wrong. The man did not express his affections in words, nor facial expressions, but in actions.

Byleth had stayed up late into the night, with some baked goods helping Annette tackle a subject she struggled with. He sparred with Felix when the young man grew too angry to function, and patched him up quietly after. 

He gardened with Dedue, despite the man’s warnings to stay away. Byleth helped him cook, and took interest in things important to the Duscur man, something a precious few ever did. 

He was a shoulder to cry on when Ashe lost his adoptive father. They sat alone in the cathedral as the moon reached its peak, upon one of the pews as Ashe mourned the loss of someone so important to him.

It wasn't even just ‘his’ house either, Byleth reached out to all that were suffering and became someone of comfort and support. 

He encouraged Ignatz to pursue painting, he helped Raphael when money became tight for he and his sister, he was patient with Bernadetta’s fears, he never spoke ill of Dorothea.

Every action he did was comparatively small, little gestures here and there that were in truth rather trivial, yet meant so much to those around him. Even larger displays of care, such as staying with Dimitri, even after all he had said to the man, how he said he’d use him until the flesh fell off his bones… To sparing the Death Knight at Mercedes' plea, despite knowing it could put himself in grave danger.

The Death Knight did not return after that, Dimitri wondered if he too, had been swept under the man’s charm.

Actions spoke louder than words, Dimitri realized. The day he saw Byleth smile for the first time, was the day he had truly fallen in love.

He needed to actually help the people, he needed to not only be present in construction efforts, but he needed to be among the people, getting his hands covered in dust and rope burns as they were. It would not make up for his past sins, but it would be a start.

A knock on his door pulled Dimitri from the bed he sat on, and he pulled open the door, expecting to see Dedue, or another general.

Instead, Byleth stood there. 

Dimitri couldn't help the wave of fondness that washed over him at the sight of the man, he stood there silently, expression neutral. Yet, Dimitri knew Byleth felt as much, if not more, than the rest of them.

“What can I do for you, Beloved?”

Byleth ducked his head, perhaps his tone had been a bit overly affectionate, “The bathhouse is empty.”

“Ah, thank you for telling me.”

Byleth nodded and stepped away from the door, a silent invitation. Dimitri swallowed his nerves, and followed him down the stairs, halls, and eventually out into the bathhouse.

Steam billowed from the warm water, the scent of lavender, pine, and some other herb he could not discern filled the air. Just walking into the arched room brought comfort. As Byleth said, it was empty, though there were areas where the stone leading to the pool in the middle of the open room was still wet. As though people had only recently left.

The rustle of fabric grabbed Dimitri’s attention, Byleth was removing his armor and clothing. He quickly turned away to give him the privacy, only looking back when he heard the water being disturbed. 

The water came up to just under Byleth’s rib cage, it was opaque with oils, giving the water a murky blue color to it. 

Dimitri hesitated again, embarrassed by how he must look beneath his clothes and armor. He had filled out some, since the war ended, no longer skin and bones as he had been. Yet he couldn't say he was at a healthy weight yet, his ribs still too prominent for someone of his size. He imagined it looked rather morbid.

Not to mention his scars. 

Byleth was not without his own, the man had more than Dimitri could count, yet, the scars were different on Byleth. He knew the origins of some, they were the result of putting himself before others. Shielding Mercedes from a lance, shoving Dimitri from what would have been a lethal blow from an axe.

His scars were from protecting others, Dimitri’s were not. The only ones he could say didn't bother him were the ones on his back, the result of swords coming down to slay an innocent boy in the face of blind rage at the loss of a king. Dimitri would never be ashamed of protecting Dedue as he did.

Others, where wounds had gotten infected and gnarled into something large and disgusting, covered much of his body. He had not cared to look after his wounds back then, hell, his eye was removed by none other than himself.

Dimitri was ashamed that he had carved his own eye from his skull, a shard of glass in hand. He had hoped if he were to rip his eyes out, he could stop seeing the ghosts that haunted him. Dimitri only managed to get the one before he fell unconscious, from either the indescribable pain, or blood loss, Dimitri could not remember.

“Dimitri.”

Byleth’s voice pulled him from the darkness of his mind, and he looked to to see the man standing near the edge of the bath, the water was more shallow, only just covering past his hip bones.

“Sorry, I… Sorry.”

Byleth left the water, and Dimitri turned his gaze elsewhere, so as not to make him uncomfortable.

“Is this too much?” Byleth asked, his voice quiet, “If you desire, you can leave your clothes on. I’ll help you wash them.”

Dimitri wondered how Byleth could read him so easily, but shook his head. “No… I’ll undress, just- give me a moment.”

“Would it be easier if I left?”

“ _No!_ No, do not leave me.”

Byleth grabbed Dimitri’s hand and brought it up to his face, Dimitri followed the movement from the corner of his eye, wary of what the man would do. 

“Never,” He simply pressed a gentle kiss over the pulse on his wrist, “But I can step out if that would make this easier for you, then return when you are already in?”

Dimitri considered it, then shook his head, “No, you can return to the water, just… Could you not watch?”

Byleth nodded, and did as asked. When he returned to the warm bath, Byleth had his back to him. There were scars there as well, Dimitri noticed as he took off his own armor and clothes with care.

The water was a bit hot, Dimitri wondered if perhaps living in such a snowy climate made him more sensitive to heat. Still, it was far from unbearable, and Dimitri eased himself in. Once the water came to his hips, Dimitri relaxed a bit. He still looked grotesque, but with Byleth facing away from him, he could give himself a chance to brace for the expected reaction.

“Alright.”

Byleth turned, and… Did not react. Instead, he waded up so he stood before him, and smiled, “I guess you are used to ‘warm’ by Faerghus standards.”

Dimitri couldn't help but chuckle, tension left his body, and the arms he had used to try and cover himself slowly were released to hang at his sides in the water. Byleth thumped his head against Dimitri’s chest, and emotion welled up within him, a lump formed in his throat. 

He placed his hands on Byleth’s hips, hoping the trembling in them would not be noticed, and hung his head to rest utop the mess of green. 

“Dorothea was right,” Byleth mumbled against his skin, his breath was warm even inside the bath, “You _do_ stink.”

“You don't exactly smell clean yourself,” Dimitri huffed, though a smile tugged on his lips, he pulled back just enough to see Byleth staring up at him.

Warm hands rested just under his ribs, Dimitri wanted to curl away and cover himself from Byleth. He wanted to shield his disgusting grotesque body from Byleth’s gentle eyes, they were too kind. Far more than he deserved.

“Dimitri,” Byleth’s voice was so quiet he almost could not hear him.

“Yes?”

“In the letter you wrote to me, you said you loved me.”

Dimitri was unsure why Byleth brought that up now, “I do.”

Byleth nodded, “Good. I love you too, you know that, right?”

Dimitri had already heard the man say he loved him, so this was not exactly something new, yet in this setting, whispered between the small space between their scarred bodies… It felt different, far more tender and in a way, accepting. 

Dimitri wrapped his arms around Byleth fully and brought him into a hug, “I know, thank you, Byleth.”

“That means I love _all_ of you,” Byleth reached around him and rested his hands between his shoulder blades, “Even the parts of you, that you do not.”

He couldn't explain why those simple words were his undoing. Dimitri buried his face in Byleth’s hair, and allowed himself to weep. They remained like that for a while, until the last of his tears were spent. He pulled away, a heavy weight lifted from his chest, he felt… Better.

Not perfect, he still hated how he appeared, yet… He felt safe in Byleth’s warm eyes. 

Dimitri cupped some water in his hands and let it wash over the top of Byleth’s head. The man stood still, he took it as permission to continue washing his hair of grease and debris. Byleth’s eyes closed into the touch, a soft hum escaped his lips. 

When his hair was clean, Dimitri washed his shoulders and neck, careful not to apply much force, lest he harm the man willing to be so vulnerable before him. His fingers traced along Byleth’s jawline, his thumb rested just beneath Byleth’s lips.

He couldn't help himself, and leaned down to press his own against them.

Byleth was pliant, and when Dimitri traced his tongue along the man’s lips, he allowed access without any hesitation. Dimitri pressed against his beloved, deepening the kiss. He wanted to drink every sound that left Byleth, even the soft grunt when his back hit the stone edge of the bath. 

Dimitri traced his hands upward to rest upon Byleth’s ribs, then down the small of his back, stopping just short of the curve from his rear. Byleth’s hands held Dimitri’s face to him, and pushed back just as much as Dimitri, their bodies flush against each other.

A heavy warmth settled in his gut before he finally pulled from Byleth. He stared down at the man, his lips were a bit red from their kiss, but he seemed quite happy regardless. Dimitri buried his face in Byleth’s neck, peppering chaste kisses up the skin, along his jaw, and then back to his lips, before he finally pulled back.

Byleth’s thumb stroked the curve of his cheek, and Dimitri leaned into the touch.

“Thank you, Byleth.” 

Byleth allowed his hand to slip from his face, and tilted his head at Dimitri’s statement,“For what?”

“For being who you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy, that was a fun one. I feel like this chapter is pretty short, but I wanted to give the next part it's own chapter. Also! Again, thank you all for your support on the chapters, your comments are always so exciting to read!!
> 
> Look, I even sprinkled some spice and fluff between the angst, ya welcome. 
> 
> This is the start of them opening up to each other about their own respective struggles, it will get heavier from here, fair warning. However, on chapters that features it I'll be sure to put a disclaimer in the summary as I did with this one.
> 
> Let me know what y'all think, and feel free to come scream with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/vulturepops) or [Tumblr](https://disastergays.tumblr.com/)


	7. A Palace of Blood and Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I suppose,” He agreed, “I did consider it, though.”
> 
> “Not surprised, good to know my bet wasn't completely off.”
> 
> “... Just how many of you took bets on Byleth and I?”
> 
> Dorothea laughed, “A lady _never_ gambles and tells, Your Majesty.”

Dimitri’s fingers were wrinkled by the time he and Byleth left the bathhouse.

He did not bother with his armor, instead taking to carrying the metal back to his room, wearing the far more casual leather garb instead. Byleth assisted him by holding his chest plates and cloak. Or, well, _wearing_ his cloak. 

Dimitri knew what he would craft Byleth once he earned Seteth’s approval proper. Though the real question would be what animal to slay? A bear was an obvious choice, perfectly showed his strength and the thick fur would keep Byleth warm. It was a bit cliche, he supposed. His father _had_ slain a bear for his mother.

Yet, to bring Byleth the hide of anything less than such a powerful beast seemed insulting.

Perhaps a moose? Their fur was thick and they were rarely challenged by those seeking their future bethrode’s hand. They were only found in the northernmost region of his homeland, and were a mighty beast his people held great respect for. Maybe slaying one would earn the ire of Sothis.

Dimitri glanced at Byleth, though given the man was on his blind side, he had to turn his head to actually get a look at him.

Technically, he supposed he could just, quite literally, ask her. But he didn't want Byleth to know what he was planning, he wanted to surprise him with his gift. 

“You are thinking.”

Dimitri stumbled over his feet when Byleth spoke.

“Oh, yes! Sorry, was I staring?”

“Yes,” Byleth tilted his head, “Are you alright?”

“I am. Don't worry, I was not troubled by my thoughts, just… Merely thinking.”

Byleth narrowed his eyes at him briefly, his gaze roamed over his body, then he nodded once, and returned his sights forward. Dimitri did the same.

Dimitri should ask a second opinion, perhaps Dedue? No, the man would probably just ask him to inquire what Byleth himself would prefer. Seteth, maybe, once he earned his approval could give some thoughtful insight. He considered Sylvian for a moment, then decided against it, he’d prefer to avoid the letter situation happening again.

While late, it was still a bit early for sleep when they arrived back at Dimitri’s room for the eve. Byleth set the armor he was carrying down upon the mannequin stationed in the far corner of the room, and swung the cloak around it. 

Dimitri set his armor upon the humanoid shape as well, and dumped the excess on the floor. It needed cleaning anyway, but he did not have the energy for such now. Rather, he’d prefer to get something to eat before he retired for the night, but, he first needed to address Byleth’s apparent pain.

Byleth was in the doorframe when Dimitri spoke, “Byleth.”

The man froze, Dimitri had the sneaking suspicion the man knew what he was going to inquire. Without his coat in the way, it was easy to notice how tense his muscles were, prepared to dart at a moment’s notice.

“Byleth, please, we need to talk.”

Byleth shifted from foot to foot, then relented and returned into the room proper, the door closed softly behind him.

Dimitri sat on the edge of the bed, Byleth perched beside him.

“You have been in pain?”

Byleth grunted, “It has been some time since Flayn spoke of it, why bring it up now?”

“I was unsure what it could be from, if something concerning your condition, I did not wish for prying ears to overhear us.”

When the man remained silent on the matter, Dimitri grabbed his hand and interlaced their fingers, “You may reveal your past to me as you need to, however, please tell me of things in your present.”

Byleth nodded, “Very well.”

Dimitri was patient as Byleth fought to find the right words, despite the worry coiling in his gut. He did not imagine it was something that came easily to him, despite his uncanny ability to speak the kindest things. Byleth wasn't one who spoke much of himself, afterall.

“Growing pains.”

“ _Growing_ pains?” Dimitri was thoroughly confused. The man was surely old enough to have finished growing, he was far from a child. 

“Yes. Maybe?” Byleth’s brow furrowed, “No. I am… incomplete. To be complete, Sothis and I must be as one. It is exhausting.”

“Explain.”

“My heart does not beat because of Sothis, like my mother before me. I am stronger than she had been, so Sothis is awake within me. I have to… Be stronger? So I can be alive too.”

Dimitri did not understand any of this, but he gave a gentle squeeze to his hand anyway, “Byleth, you _are_ alive now.”

Byleth glanced at him from the corner of his eye, an unusual frown rested on his face, “My heart does not beat, I do not feel as others do, I am the vassal of the Goddess, nothing more.”

“You are so much more than that, Byleth. You are beloved by so many, your students, your friends, me, we all adore you. As you are. You say you cannot feel as others do, but I _frankly,_ do not believe that.”

Byleth averted his gaze to the deep red carpet, “Words are meaningless in situations such as this.”

“You are wrong,” Dimitri jutted his chin out, a seed of anger blossomed in his chest, “What does Sothis say?”

Byleth flinched, and shrunk in on himself, “She… Agrees with you.”

“There you have it, are you truly going to deny the word of the Goddess herself?”

“If I do, Sothis will give me a headache that’ll last lifetimes.”

Dimitri chuckled, and gave himself a moment to let his anger dissipate. He was frustrated with Byleth, but being angry with him would not help, he knew that much. Instead, he rubbed his thumb along Byleth’s scarred knuckles, “Byleth, I love all of you.”

The man side-eyed him.

“Even parts of you, you do not like.”

Byleth deflated and squeezed his hand back, “Ok.”

Dimitri could tell Byleth was done with the conversation. While it was by no means over, he knew such topics were overwhelming sometimes, and needed reprieves between them. So, he placed a gentle kiss on his fingers, and stood.

“Come, let us get food before we retire for the night.”

Byleth nodded, and trotted after him, their hands still woven together.

* * *

Helping people was easy, in theory. Find someone that could use an extra set of hands, and assist them on whatever their task was. 

However, in practice, not as easy.

Dorothea sat on a marble bench just outside the opera house, Dimitri had retreated to sit beside her. He was getting frustrated.

“I still can't believe you tried to carry an old lady across the road,” She laughed, and set her crimson fan beside her. 

“She had a lame foot, I figured it’d be easier than her walking wherever she needed to go.”

Dorothea chuckled and shook her head, “Your Majesty, you're adorable. Who put this idea into your head anyway? Was it Caspar? Sounds like something Caspar would do.”

“No… I was thinking,” Dimitri rested his forearms on his knees, “About when we first met Byleth. He unnerved a lot of folk, myself included.”

A hum urged him to continue speaking.

“I thought… What was it that he did to earn our trust? He did things for us, so I could do the same, but with the people of Enbarr.”

“Oh Dimitri…” Dorothea rubbed his shoulder, “There are people who will never like you, but do not let that define how you see yourself as a King. Actions speak louder than words, yes, but in the right times. Prove to them that you’ll be better by helping us rebuild, _not_ by slinging the elderly over your shoulder and jogging them through the market.”

“How?”

“Reconstruction is happening on a building not too far from here, you could probably be a great help if you contribute your strength to the project.”

“You do not think they will chase me off?”

“They may disapprove of you helping, but you're still the King, they aren't going to chase you off. Use that to your advantage, someone who stands with their people is a far better leader than one who watches from their castle.”

“I see. Would you take me there?”

“What, _now?_ ”

“Yes, time is of the essence.”

“You will not win people’s hearts in a matter of days, you know.”

“Of course, but any start I can get will take me that much closer to my goal.”

Dorothea grabbed her fan and stepped into the afternoon sun, “Alright, alright. I’ll take you over, I am not getting this dress dirty though, Petra gave it to me.”

“It is very lovely, the beadwork is quite detailed.” Dimitri trotted beside her.

“Isn't it? Petra did it herself, y’know. She also writes the sweetest letters, maybe our dear professor could learn a thing or two from her.”

Dimitri chuckled, she was probably right. Still, he liked to think he understood how Byleth expressed his affections better now. No need for letters between them, not anymore.

After a moment to think her words over, Dimitri slowed his gait to match the lazy stride of the woman beside him, “How did _you_ find out about the letters?”

“Same way everyone else did, you honestly think all of our noses would not be in your two’s business? After all you went through, it's about damn time you’ve found some peace. Honestly, I’m surprised you didn't propose to him the day you ended the war.”

Dimiri recalled them returning to the monastery, they stood in the Goddess tower, exhausted, but relieved. The ring in his pocket was such a heavy weight, yet he was too much of a coward to present it then. Plus, proposing after taking a life seemed… Crass.

There was so much that needed to be done, Dimitri worried that a wedding would muddle affairs for them both anyway. He did not regret waiting.

“I suppose,” He agreed, “I did consider it, though.”

“Not surprised, good to know my bet wasn't completely off.”

“... Just how many of you took bets on Byleth and I?”

Dorothea laughed, “A lady _never_ gambles and tells, Your Majesty.”

“So all of you, then.”

“Of course,” Dorothea covered a giggle with her fan, “Ah, look who it is.”

Further down the stone street was none other than his beloved. He spoke to a merchant, and paid for some sort of book. Byleth nodded to the one inside the tent, and tucked the item into a leather satchel he had slung around his shoulder.

“Professor!”

Byleth turned to them, Dimitri was a bit surprised he could hear. Dorothea was loud, but certainly not as loud as he would have expected to be for one to hear from such a distance. 

Well, he once was a mercenary, perhaps keen ears were a necessity then, not a luxury.

It took a few minutes for Byleth to reach them, he nodded at Dorothea, and headbutted Dimitri’s arm.

“Where are you off to?” Dorothea closed her fan to speak to him.

“Lindhardt asked me to get him a book, he is studying something.”

“So… He made you his errand boy?” Dorothea shook her head, “That’s usually Caspar’s job.”

“Caspar is helping with construction somewhere, I think. Lindhardt told me he was offered a teaching position here?”

Dorothea clapped her hands, “Oh yes! He was, I really hope he takes it up, he is quite skilled with white magic. Plus, I know he puts his all into things he is passionate about, I think he’d make a great teacher.”

Dimitri couldn't help but agree. Sure, the man often came off as lazy, yet he’s seen the way Lindardt’s eyes lit up when passionate about something, he was rather patient too. Did _not_ tolerate stupidity though, Dimitri recalled when Lindhardt snapped at him quite some time ago for being foolish in battle.

Caspar usually bore the brunt of Lindhardt’s worry though. He wondered if they were a couple. It had been quite a long time since he had seen them. Perhaps he could inquire later, he had more important tasks at hand than idle gossip.

They bid Byleth adiew, and continued to the construction. As luck would have it, Caspar happened to be working on the same building Dorothea spoke of. 

He and the other five men here were covered in sweat, Caspar had his cotton shirt tied around his waist, his skin and red and blotchy, perhaps the beginning of a sunburn. He perked up once he noticed the two of them walking toward them.

“Hey guys! What’s up?”

“I came to assist in your construction.”

One of the other men mumbled something to Caspar, who frowned and shoved him, “Hey fuck off.”

Maybe this had not been a good idea.

Caspar rolled his arm, and nodded to a wood wagon, “We need s’more bricks. Come on, you’re stupid strong, you can pull the wagon so we can get more bricks here!”

“I can do that.”

“Hell yeah, come on!” 

Like that, he was swept under Capsar’s sweaty arm, and led away from Dorothea. 

He could faintly hear her laugh and shout something as the far shorter man dragged him off to get the bricks. This was, he supposed, what he had wanted.

Caspar and another resident loaded the wagon up with clay bricks, high enough that it almost reached Dimitri’s head. Impressive.

While unconcerned with whether or not he could pull such a weight, he knew he was capable, he was more worried about the wagon itself. Was it built to withstand such? Caspar seemed confident, so Dimitri trusted his judgement.

Until when Dimitri actually pulled the wagon and yanked the handle off completely.

Shortly before the front axle bent and broke under the weight, sending the pile of bricks to the ground.

“Huh. Well, _that_ didn't work.”

So Dimitri carried back stacks at a time by hand, the workers seemed thankful, if not a bit unsure of how to react to him. Dimitri would take unsure over being frightened any day. 

He was able to lift a beam that would have required three of them to hold in place, and allowed them to attach it securely to the rafters in record time. With each thing he lifted or moved, the more at ease the others seemed to get.

One of them even joked with him, called him Patches. Another was absolutely infuriated by him saying such a thing, but Dimitri was quick to assure he didn't mind, nicknames were nice.

So he became King Patches.

Rebuilding took a lot of work, but he was rewarded with some cool ale after they finished what they could for the night. He was introduced to other men and women in the construction crew, some kept their distance, others warmed up to him when Parcel (the one who had dubbed him King Patches to begin with) called him such.

They found it funny, and that, somehow, made him less frightening to them.

It was nice, he felt like a person among them, not a King.

* * *

Dimitri fell face-first into his bed when he finally returned to his room.

Dimitri was no stranger to hard labor, he would build dozens of houses over paperwork any day, yet he had been idle for so long, he worked muscles that normally were unused. He was stiff and frankly, a bit sore.

Byleth slipped into the room, something sloshed as he did. 

He rolled onto his side to glance at the man, holding a bucket of water and rags. Dimitri sat up, confused, “What is that for?”

“You.”

Dimitri’s gaze darted between the water and Byleth’s stoic face. 

“Why?”

Byleth set the water down and motioned for him to stand, “We are going to the baths.”

Dimitri really, _really_ didn't want to. But a soak would probably be good for his muscles. That did not explain the basin of water, though.

“Then why bring that here?”

“It still needs to cool, Manuela showed me how to make it. It’s for relaxing muscles.”

“Water?”

“No, like…” Byleth’s eyes narrowed in what Dimitri figured to be thought, “Tea, but for your body.”

Byleth set some sort of vial beside the cooling water, “She said to apply it after we return from the baths, and let it dry. It’ll help relieve the aches.”

Dimitri hadn't seen Byleth since the early afternoon when he had been running an errand for Lindardt. He wondered how he figured out he’d be aching. Even if he did know of him working with the others, how could he possibly know he’d be sore?

“You have not been on the battlefield in some time, of course you’d hurt,” Byleth drawled, and jerked his head to the door.

“Ah, did I speak aloud?”

“No, but you have always let your emotions rest on your face, it makes it easier to discern what you are thinking.”

Dimitri allowed himself to be guided to the bathhouse in silence. 

When they arrived, it was empty, just as it had been the night before. He wondered if it always emptied out at night, with the stars above them, it seemed as though it would be an amazing place to relax when night fell. Perhaps it was a cultural thing. Byleth was already in the water by the time Dimitri had taken off his shirt.

It still felt wrong to slide into the water with Byleth. To accompany the man in such an intimate way, he hardly deserved it. 

With his back turned, a speck of white just below Byleth’s hair caught Dimitri’s eye. He finished undressing and eased into the hot water. He approached the man from behind and gently brushed the pale locks from his neck, he couldn't quite discern what it was.

It was shiny, peralesant, when he brushed his fingers over it, he found the white fleck hot, much like the water. Byleth jerked away from him as he did, and covered his neck with his hands. 

Dimitri panicked, “I am so sorry, I shouldn't have touched you without your permission. Please, forgive me I-”

“Dimitri.”

“Y-yes?”

“You startled me, I am not insulted.”

Dimitri let out a sigh of relief, though kept the distance between them. He still should have asked before just touching him as he did, it was rude and boorish.

Byleth rubbed the back of his neck, brows furrowed, “What did you touch?”

“Oh, there is some white spot on your neck.”

That only seemed to trouble the man further, when he started clawing at his neck Dimitri closed the distance between them and grabbed his hand, “Beloved, please do not mutilate yourself.”

Byleth blinked, as if he were unaware of doing such a thing to himself, then nodded. His muscles relaxed, and his head fell against Dimitri’s chest. When sure he would no longer attack himself as he was, Dimitri let go of his hand and rested his own on Byleth’s sides. They stood like that for some time, basking in each others warmth. 

Byleth was the first to pull back, and Dimitri released his hold on the man easily. He grabbed Dimitri’s wrist, and led him to the edge of the baths, where marble benches had been installed along the stone edges, for people to sit and soak within the steaming water.

Dimitri sat and leaned back against the comparatively cool stone, the water brushed his chest when he sat, and Byleth’s collarbones. 

“We are going to the palace tomorrow.”

“We _what?_ ”

“You heard me.”

Dimitri’s heart started to pound, his mind fuzzy, panic laced his mind, “Byleth, I cannot… I am not able to return to that place. It is… It is stained with the blood I spilled.”

“Dimitri, the battle that happened there was of Edelgard’s own volition. You did what you could to avoid it.”

“Yes, but if I had been better, or more convincing… Maybe if I had been more willing to hear her words she might- She may still live.”

Byleth closed his eyes, “She was set in her decision. No amount of reaching out would have stopped her on her path. Even in the end, you tried to spare her, and she refused your hand.”

Dimitri’s gaze focused on the water, brows furrowed. 

He knew logically Byleth spoke the truth. He still had not retained full feeling in his hand after that damn knife lodged itself in his shoulder. It ached when the weather grew too cold. 

Yet, such words did not curb his guilt. He had killed his own kin. Sure, kin by marriage, but kin nonetheless. He had wanted nothing more than to rebuild Fodlan with his sister, to create a world they both would have cherished, yet… It was not to be.

The palace served as a reminder of his failures. Each time he stepped outside, he could see it in the distance, mocking his ineptitude. A reminder of the blood that would forever stain his hands.

“... Why do you wish to go there?”

“I have little desire to go there,” Byleth drawled, “However, I know you need to.”

“Do I?”

“Yes. The building has been abandoned, none have entered since the war ended. It will soon fall to ruin if not properly tended after. I know you do not care for the building, but would letting such a place crumble beneath time make you content?”

Dimitri shook his head.

“So, we will go there. I am sure you can think of something to do with the place, afterall, it is technically yours now.”

“I do not want it.”

“Then do not keep it.”

Dimitri considered his words. He wanted nothing to do with the palace, yet if the place were to fall to ruin, he would never forgive himself for that either. Another sin to add to his seemingly ever growing pile.

But… If he could find a use for the palace, turn it into something beautiful, despite it’s bloody past. He would quite like that.

Still, he _really_ did not want to step foot into those cursed halls.

As with nearly everything though, Byleth was right. Perhaps he did need to pay it a visit.

“Very well.”

The man beside him nodded, and that was that. 

When they eventually returned to the room, Byleth rubbed the odd water and oil mixture over his body. It was cold yet hot at the same time, but eased the pain he felt. He was grateful.

* * *

  
  


It truly was a beautiful building.

There had been so much care crafted into each pillar, every single step, it would be unforgivable to let such an incredible place fall to ruin. Still, standing upon the top step of the entrance, Dimitri found his legs laced with iron, and he could not move.

Byleth took post beside him, and bumped their arms together. 

Dimitri swallowed his fear, but could not bring himself to move. Walking was such a simple thing, yet now, it felt as though an unsolvable puzzle laid before him. He… Was scared.

They stood in silence for some time, before Dimitri finally managed to force himself further, each step heavier than the last. His only comfort was Byleth’s quiet support at his side, never pushing, yet never letting him retreat.

Inside smelled of dust. The carpets were dull, yet despite it’s clear abandonment, as the light danced between the pillars on either side of them, the interior glowed. There was a garden to his right, if he remembered correctly. Suddenly needing the air, he took a sharp turn, and followed the woven carpet to stone steps descending to a fountain and a once beautiful garden.

In its state of disarray, the fountain was overrun with moss. The once clear water now had a green algae tint to it. The plants were overgrown and riddled with weeds, creeping from their once perfectly defined places to the cobblestone pathway, some even climbing up the fountain itself.

Yet there was still beauty in it’s feral state. Untamed by people, returning to what it once had been, perhaps. Would it be disrespectful to try and tidy up, while he was here? 

The sun was unforgiving, and he sought the cool reprieve of shade. Byleth and he stood beneath a towering tree a few paces from the garden. Gentle taps on his arm alerted him to a slice of bread offered, Dimitri didn't realize how hungry he had grown.

He accepted the food gratefully and ate it while he thought. 

What good could come of this place? With some proper attention, he had no doubt the gardens could flourish as they once had been. Yet, what would the rest of the building be used for then? Perhaps there were plants that would thrive indoors? Maybe the palace could become a massive greenhouse, much like the one back at Garreg Mach.

No, that would require reconstruction, Dimitri did not wish to deface the palace any further.

“Beloved, what would you use this place for, if it were yours?”

The man was silent for some time, though a glance in his direction assured Dimitri that he had heard him, but was thinking over the question. Giving it the proper consideration and care Dimitri would have expected of him.

“A school, like the officers academy.”

“A… School?”

“Yes.”

Dimitri considered the options. He wondered if he could truly make a school worth attending. Yet… His memories of his time as a student at the Monastery were some of his fondest. A _school,_ he… Liked that.

Perhaps… A school for anyone, any class noble or commoner, where if they wished, they could attend. Where the divide between high and low classes was nonexistent. Their dorms would not be separated, but intermingled. Perhaps one that would train their students for peace, and not battle as the officer’s did. 

Yes. A school for everyone.

He liked that quite a bit.

He would not touch the building without proper permission of the people but… Dimitri liked the idea. Turn a place of bloodshed into a place of knowledge. Allow others to learn at their own pace, an open library for anyone wishing to better themselves.

“Thank you, Byleth. I am fond of that idea.”

They remained in the shade for some time, until Dimitri felt ready to brave the building once more. Byleth at his side, silent, but supportive. What would he have done without him?

Dimitri refused to entertain the thought.

Instead, they strode from the garden into a large echoing room, stacked to the ceiling with books. There were ladders tucked away neatly in the far corner of the room, near where a wall of scrolls resided. There was a window on the second floor of the room, allowing natural sunlight to bask the otherwise lonely place in a warm glow.

Dimitri did not recall being in this room during the battle. Though he supposed it was better that way, a fight would have destroyed what books and scrolls were stored here, if time had not already. There was a click of metal, and Dimitri’s head snapped to Byleth, where he was scaling one of the decrepit ladders to reach the second floor.

He wasn't sure if he’d trust the ladder to bear his weight, so instead, he took to exploring the bottom half of the room. He pulled out a book and brushed stray dust from it. Some of the edges of the paper had been worn away, yet otherwise, it was in great shape. Dimitri hoped they’d be able to salvage what laid here. 

The book he held was a fairytale, a story of a man that gave too much, and became a monster. Dimitri remembered this tale, vaguely, his step-mother told it to him once. A man with the ability to cure all illnesses, but at the cost of taking the sickness himself. As more and more people used him for their own needs, the man was warped and twisted into something unrecognizable.

He killed all those he had helped, in the end.

Dimitri closed the book, and pondered the irony. He wondered if his step-mother felt a kinship with the character, he supposed it had been foolish to think she had truly loved him or his father. Had their union been one of political gain? Dimitri could not remember, he was too young.

Yet… He could remember how his father looked at the woman, Dimitri could have sworn he loved her. But perhaps that was an act, put on in the face of his son to spare him the heartache. Why couldn't Edelgard live with them? 

There were so many questions he had, yet few alive to answer them. Perhaps Gilbert would know of the truth, though he had seemed fond of his step-mother as well. Maybe he did not know the truth of the matter, maybe no one still breathing did.

He returned the book to its place and browsed the others. It seemed as if more books were in this room than the Monastery's own library. He wondered what sorts of tales or secrets they could hold within them. 

The second floor had been far too quiet, and Dimitri grew a bit worried for Byleth. He chanced the ladder and carefully climbed to the second floor. Byleth was perched on a desk just before the window, a large heavy book open upon his lap. 

There was a patch on the desk roughly the size of it, suspiciously dust free. Had the book been in the middle of being read when the battle took place?

Dimitri approached him and leaned against the desk at his side, “What is in the book?”

Byleth adjusted the book to allow Dimitri to look over it as well.

It was a journal, a scientific one… On dragons. The only true dragon he had ever seen was when Edelgard stormed Garreg Mach on the day he lost his beloved for five long years. Yet according to this book, there were many other kinds.

The most peculiar thing was the language, he had never seen such before in his life. The book must have been very, very old. Perhaps there was once a time when dragons lived among humans, though if it ever were the case, it must have happened centuries ago, as no lasting trace of them remains. 

Byleth turned the page, likely scanning over the pictures there. They were thorough, detailing all manner of little tidbits about the dragons. For one to have complied such an intricate knowledge, they had to have been some sort of expert. Perhaps they had hunted the beasts, or perhaps they were sentient, and willingly lendt their knowledge.

The next page donned a massive white dragon on it. Much of the paper had faded immensely, so it was hard to make out details, but the creature seemed to have four massive wings, and stood nearly as tall as a mountain. Dimitri couldn't help but be relieved such a frightening beast no longer walked this earth, if it ever did.

Byleth closed the book, “I’m taking this.”

Dimitri chuckled, he wondered what his beloved’s fascination with it was. Still, he saw no harm, so he gave his permission with a quick kiss to the top of his head. Byleth stuffed the book into the leather bag he had been carrying around recently.

They returned to the ground floor, and exited the library, it led them to an open room, the carpet continued. Dimitri recognized this as the audience chamber. Just beyond it lied the throne room. Elelgard’s final resting place.

He wasn't ready to go there yet, instead, he took to roaming the empty room. There was some broken furniture scattered about the place, some still dyed with blood. The sight made him sick, even if the stench had long since faded.

He remembered Dedue broke his arm here, when an axeman came at Dimitri’s blind side, and he shielded the blow. He recovered, but Dimitri could still taste the terror on his tongue when he heard Dedue’s pained cry. Further near the proper entrance of the room, he remembered Caspar shouting something to one of the soldiers he clashed with.

He could not recall the words, but he remembered the man sobbed when he finished them off. Had he known the one he clashed weapons with? Dimitri imagined it was like that with the other Eagles that accompanied them on that horrid day. 

Byleth had made it clear, he remembered, that they did not have to partake in this battle, yet… They refused to stand down. He had been so honored and proud of them at the time, the loyalty the showed to both him and his professor was inspiring.

Now… He felt sad for them. He understood why Byleth had been so adamant on them staying at their base camp then.

There were no bodies left on the floor. Dimitri was glad, he hoped their family and loved ones were able to collect them and give them the proper funerals they deserved. He wondered if Edelgard got a funeral. 

He hoped she did.

He continued to wander aimlessly within the room, he killed a mage there, decapitated a soldier there. It was dizzying, he could recall with such clarity where he had killed each of Edelgard’s soldiers. How they screamed on their deathbed, the rage he felt when he retreated from the advance to save his companions from a monster that had cornered them.

He ran a hand through his hair, he was nauseous.

A weight against his arm brought him back to solid ground, Byleth leaned against him, his head rested upon his bicep. Dimitri brought his arm around his beloved’s shoulders, and allowed himself to take a moment of reprieve by resting his cheek on Byleth’s soft hair. He still smelled of pine.

“Byleth… I… I did so many terrible things here.”

“Such is war.”

Dimitri frowned, he knew Byleth wasn't numb to the pain they had caused, he _knew_ Byleth would have rather spared each life himself. Sometimes though, he wondered if Byleth wished her were, as Dimitri often did.

“Forgive me for perhaps coming off as rude, but… Have you ever considered going back? All the way back, before the war happened, and trying to stop it?”

“Of course,” Byleth grunted, “However, I cannot do that, as much as I had wished it many times. Such is far beyond my reach of power. Going back two weeks could have very well been fatal, had I not already been surrounded by healers.”

Dimitri pulled back enough to catch Byleth’s eyes, “You could have died?”

“Yes, but I knew I would not. Manuela is a fantastic healer, as is Flayn. It was unpleasant, of course, I’d prefer not to do it again, thank you.”

Dimitri oriented himself so Byleth stood in front of him, “Byleth, you _cannot_ risk your life like that!”

“I can, and I shall when needed.”

“Byleth if you had died, I… I would be lost without you.”

The man shook his head, and brought Dimitri’s hand to his cheek, “You would grieve, but you would live. You have many who treasure you, there are things to live for, your Kingdom needs you, all of Foldan does.”

“Byleth _please,_ do not speak so casually of your own life!”

Byleth intertwined their fingers, and fell silent. His gaze unfocused, seeing something Dimitri could never hope to see. He pulled the man close for a hug, and buried his face in the warm crook of his neck beside his coat.

“I am sorry for upsetting you.”

Dimitri shook his head, “Beloved, you must start valuing your life as I do, as others do. Please do not throw it away so senselessly.”

There was a heavy silence in the air. Byleth’s hand came around to return in the hug, he could feel the way his hands gripped at Dimitri’s leather vest. 

“Ok.”

“Thank you.”

They stood together for some time. When Dimitri’s knees began to ache, he pulled back. He stroked Byleth’s cheek and smiled at the man, after a moment, Byleth returned it. They kissed, and continued onward.

The entrance of the throne room was horrifying. There was far more rubble there than anywhere else they had seen so far. The result of Edelgard doing whatever she had done to turn herself into that monster. There was a stain just before the throne itself, Dimitri knew that to be where he had killed his sister.

Her body was no longer there, he was grateful. Dimitri did not think he would have been able to stomach the sight. He could only hope she had been given a proper funeral. Part of him wished he could have been there, but he knew such a thing would have been disastrous. 

Dimitri doubted he would have been able to make it through the burning rights without having to leave.

He climbed the stairs, and knelt before the stain of blood upon the carpet. 

Dimitri had prayed to the Goddess that Edelgard would see reason, that she would have taken his hand and they could have created a world worth living in. Yet… She didn't. 

Instead, she attacked him with the very dagger he had gifted to her when they were but children. Throwing away their connection with a simple act, making it clear that mercy would have never been an option.

His shoulder ached. 

Byleth sat beside him, and they remained there for what felt like ages. Dimitri wondered what the man was thinking, quietly staring off into the distance as he kept him company. Was he reminiscing about the horrors of war as well? Did he also wish things could have gone differently?

Dimitri hoped he did not blame himself for all that transpired.

He leaned against his shoulder, Byleth jerked from the action, but relaxed into it after a beat. Byleth’s head fell upon his shoulder, a solemn silence settled around them. 

“I wish she would have taken my hand.”

“As do I, Dimitri.”

He hoped the school this place would become could be a place where such battles would never need to happen again.

* * *

Tomorrow, he will speak to the people on the steps of Edelgard’s palace. The word spread like wildfire, and it seemed everyone spoke of it. He could not tell if such whispers were from joy, or apprehension. Regardless, he hoped that asking for their permission to build a school there would be welcomed.

Yet even in the face of speaking to so many people, the nerves he felt paled in comparison to the way Seteth stared at him over his cup of tea.

Dimitri may be impatient, but he also knew there were times and places for everything. As much as he wanted to ask for Seteth’s blessing every time he saw the man, he had been content to wait until his business in Enbarr had finished. Yet, here he was, in the middle of his room, sitting on a chair pulled from the dining hall a floor below them, Seteth sitting opposed to him in a similar fashion.

A kettle rested on the end table beside them.

He distinctly felt as if he were going to get scolded for something.

Seteth took a long sip from his drink, and rested the cup in his lap, “You look like a frightened child, Your Majesty, do calm down. It will do me no good to have you fainting of nerves.”

“Right, of course.”

The man let out a sigh, and stole another drink from his tea, “How much as Byleth told you of what he is?”

“Not a lot,” Dimitri murmured, “I know his heart does not beat, Sothis resides in him, and that he must be ‘stronger’ to become as one? Much of what he’s tried to explain has gone over my head.”

Seteth nodded, “I am not surprised, it is much to take in at once. I do not believe even Jeralt, knew all there was to know about Sitri when they wed.”

Dimitri recalled the name mentioned in his journal, Sitri was Byleth’s mother.

“Sitri was a frail woman, physically. She was strong in many other ways, yet, her connection to Sothis drained her body immensely.”

“What do you mean?”

Seteth chewed on the inside of his cheek, and leaned back against the chair, “She was like Byleth, both in how she expressed herself, but also in how her anatomy was. Her heart did not beat, because of Sothis’s heart within her.”

“Could… Could Sitri see Sothis as well?”

“No, I do not believe so. Not that I ever learned, at any rate. I believe just having her power within her was too much, she was not strong enough for her to both host Sothis, and have Sothis stir within her,” He pursed his lips, “While not impossible, neither I nor Rhea were ever told such, so in truth, there is no way to know.”

“I see.”

“Sothis is awake within Byleth though, correct?”

“Yes, he told me he used to see her until his hair changed color, now he could only hear her.”

“Makes sense.”

Dimitri laughed despite himself, “Does it? Does it really?”

Seteth considered it, then chuckled himself, “I imagine it would be hard for a human to grasp.”

What?

Wait, _what?_

Seteth drew a long gulp of tea, seemingly oblivious to Dimitri’s confusion.

After some time, Seteth seemed to take pity on Dimitri, and spoke again, “You are seeking my approval for your courtship, yes?”

“I am. However, I know that this may be an innapro-”

“Good. Then listen to what I am going to say. Byleth cherishes you, however, there are many things you still do not know, and that may affect how you view your relation to him.” 

Dimitri’s brow furrowed, “You could tell me he is the Goddess herself, but that would not sway me from his side.”

Seteth nodded, “Very well. I have already passed this conversation by Byleth, so do not fret about me disclosing things he would not wish for you to know. Tell me, how old do you believe Flayn is?”

That was… An unusual question.

“Roughly around my age, probably mid twenties.”

“Incorrect.”

“Younger? I _knew_ my fear of her drinking was founded.”

Seteth coughed into his cup, “She was _drinking?_ ”

“No, no, she had brewed tea for Byleth in a tankard. I had thought it was ale.”

“Oh, good,” Seteth relaxed, “Still, you are incorrect.”

“Older than I?”

“Yes.”

Dimitri rubbed his chin, well, he supposed it was not _too_ surprising. Then she had to be in her thirties, right? She aged far better than other women he had seen, hell, she didnt age a day in five years.

As he mulled over the thoughts in his mind once more, he recalled how strange it was to see Flayn after five years, looking _exactly_ the same. 

“Seteth?”

“Yes?”

“How old _is_ Flayn?”

Seteth chuckled, “One thousand, two hundred and ten, no- Eleven.”

Dimitri dropped his cup, the tea was not hot enough to burn his legs, but it was definitely still uncomfortable. He scrambled to pick the porcelain cup up and placed it on the end table, this was a joke. 

This _had_ to be some sort of joke.

Yet when he searched Seteth’s face for any signs of laughter, there were none. The man looked as serious as he did on the day Flayn had been kidnapped.

“H… How old are _you?_ ”

“Far older.”

Dimitri took a couple minutes to process the information. None of this made any sense. No human could ever live that long. Yet, the way he spoke of ‘humans’... Were Seteth and Flayn not human?

Neither of them were beasts, he knew that much. They had helped both he and Byleth far too many timed to have ill intentions… And yet.

“Are you… human?”

“Of course not, neither is Byleth. Not truely.”

Alright, ok.

This was a lot, but it was important. 

“Now, this should go without saying, but do not breathe a word of what I am telling you to anyone else, no matter how much you trust them.”

“I would never.”

“Good,” Seteth set his empty cup beside Dimitri’s, “Now then, as I am sure you’ve figured out, our kind live a _very_ long time.”

“Right.”

“Byleth will look the same as he does now, twenty, fifty, a hundred, _two hundred_ years from now. When you grow old and grey, he will look the same. Are you prepared for the scandal of having such a ‘young’ lover will entail?”

“What do you mean?”

“Every fifty or so years, we must make ourselves anew, to avoid suspicion. ‘Byleth’ will have to die, and come back as another name. You will likely be in your fifties or sixties then, are you prepared to weather the talk that will circulate about the king taking advantage of such a young man?”

Ah. That would be… Hard. But he would, it did not matter if Byleth never grew old, so long as he remained with him, that was all Dimitri could ever ask.

“Byleth will far outlive you. He knows this, but you need to know that as well. Not just that, once he truly blossoms into his own, there will be long periods of time he must be away from you, perhaps years. He will not be able to stay as he is forever.”

“Wh-what do you mean?” Dimitri stammered, what was he talking about?

“I’ll let Byleth explain that to you, however, you must know that in your short life, there may come a time, where Byleth will not be by your side. Such is the reality of things.”

“We would likely be split apart by our duties in such a way anyway, I already knew that.”

Seteth nodded, “Yes, but this will be different. You will likely not get any contact from him for a year, or _more,_ at a time.”

It would be hard, painfully so, but it didn't matter. He loved Byleth, and he loved all that would come with him. If he could not see him for another five years, Dimitri would still love him, and welcome him with open arms when he did return.

“That is fine, I would weather any stretch of time if it meant he would one day return to me.”

That seemed to please Seteth, as he nodded once more.

“Your joke about Byleth being the Goddess was… Not entirely off. When he reaches his true potential, the line where he ends and Sothis begins will no longer exist. They would be one in the same.”

Dimitri furrowed his brows, “So… Byleth is a god?”

“To _grossly_ oversimplify it, yes, he is.”

“I see.”

Seteth leaned into the back of his chair and ran his hand through his beard, he seemed… Tense, “So, there you have it. There is more, much, much more, however, this is what I found imperative for you to know moving forward in the courtship. Knowing all this, do you still wish to pursue Byleth?”

Did he? A stupid question.

“Of course, without a doubt. I meant what I said, I love Byleth as he is. Be it as a god or something else entirely, I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with him, no matter the troubles I may face. All would be worth it to have him by my side.”

Seteth relaxed and breathed a sigh, “Good, that was what I hoped you would say.”

“What do you mean?”

“Byleth had his apprehensions telling you some of this, he feared that him not being human would affect your love for him. I know blind love when I see it, I once had it for my wife, before she passed. I am glad to see I was correct; you have my blessing.”

Relief flooded Dimitri as well, he felt as if he had passed some sort of test. In a way, he supposed he did. Even if it took the rest of his life to learn all there was to know of his Beloved, he would eagerly spend every free minute by his side. 

No matter the form he took.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HECK YEAH
> 
> Ok I'm like 90% sure this is the longest chapter so far?? It doesn't even feel that long h eck. But hey got more stuff out in the open! Hope y'all enjoyed the infodump and vague lore, since that's all you guys are going to get for a bit.  
> Also I love all the students, they each deserve all the happiness in the world.
> 
> Also also, THANK YOU! I have been cryin over you folk's comments, they make me so happy to read. 
> 
> As usual, here is my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/vulturepops) and [Tumblr](https://disastergays.tumblr.com/) if you want to come chat or somethin, I draw stuff occasionally too.


	8. The Flames of Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah, same guy,” Parcel shuddered, “I was a bit worried he was going to kill me in my sleep.”
> 
> Dimitri laughed, hard.
> 
> “What? You can not tell me that man doesn’t know 12 ways to kill you with like… I don't know, his pinky.”
> 
> “Honestly, he very well may. He once was a mercenary, you know.”

“If you wouldn't… Ouch… Pull so hard I would _greatly_ appreciate it.”

“When was the last time you brushed your hair? It has more knots than a fishing net!”

Dimitri flinched when the comb tore through another knot. Flayn was being far from gentle, he really regretted agreeing to let her do his hair.

“I brush it occasionally, I usually just leave it up though so no need- _Ow!_ ”

“No need to brush it? Ugh, I am going to have to have a talk with your Beloved, such lack of care is unacceptable.”

Dimitri was suffering, and Seteth’s vaguely smug grin he could see from the corner of his eye was not helping. He wondered where Byleth was, probably off helping Lindhardt with something again. If he were here, surely he’d rescue him from such a fate. 

Actually, no. He probably would just laugh at him. A grown man, a _King_ no less, nearly rendered to tears by a little girl brushing his hair. To his credit, the ‘little girl’ was over a thousand years old, and she had the arm strength to back it up.

Another knot was ripped out, and Dimitri flinched again.

This was a slow torture, he wouldn’t even have the chance to faint of nerves when he did make his speech, Flayn would do him in right here, right now. Dimitri would never agree to let her do his hair again.

“If I hear you have not been brushing your hair from Byleth, I will not be pleased _Brother._ ”

The comb in his hair stilled, even Seteth tensed from his perch in the corner of the office they had chosen to prepare him in. 

“Oh… Um- I apologize, it was-”

“You can call me brother if you’d like Flayn, I do not mind.”

A tense silence settled over the air. Was that the wrong thing to say? Should he have just ignored it? Maybe he should have ignored it, pretend he didn't hear anything. The comb resumed its path through his hair, and the tension dissipated.

“Very well, you shall be my cherished little brother,” Flayn hummed, and set the comb aside, “Since you will be betrothed to Byleth, you’ll be family soon anyway!”

If Seteth was Byleth’s Uncle, would that not make Flayn his aunt? Dimitri decided attempting to sort out his beloved’s unusual family tree was not worth the effort at the moment, and instead, basked in the concept of being part of a family. It had been so long since he had others to call his kin. 

There were tugs on the base of his scalp, Dimitri kept still as he could. Flayn hummed an unfamiliar tune as she worked, braiding his hair with practiced motions that spoke of years experience. Flayn did not keep her own hair braided, that he ever saw at least, he wondered where she learned.

When she finished, the braid was tied off with a blue ribbon, and rested between his shoulder blades. He supposed his hair did get longer. Perhaps he would cut it? Especially if Flayn made good on her promise of making sure he kept the hair brushed. When it was short he never had to bother.

Though he remembered Sylvain making fun of his ‘mop-head’ a few times. Perhaps no matter the length his hair would have to be brushed.

“There we go! Much better.”

Dimitri lifted a hand to feel her craftsmanship. It seemed to be an ordinary braid, he could no longer feel his hair brushing against his eyepatch either. She must have pulled all the hair back from his face. He wondered if he looked handsome.

It was never a thought he had given much care for, not even before the war. Even then, his mind had been burdened by the need for revenge, it did not matter how he appeared. Until Byleth began teaching there, he had never looked at anyone with anything other than a neutral gaze.

He had friends, kind of, but they were never anything more. He never saw them in a romantic light. Guilt gnawed at his mind as he recalled how numb he had often felt when he looked at those who cherished him as their friend.

Dimitri was still but a man even then, he certainly felt lust toward others from time to time, though it never went more than appreciating someone’s form. Never had he thought he wished to spend the rest of his life by their side. He had not deserved it then.

He wasn't sure if he deserved it now, after all he had done. And yet, Byleth chose him too. Dimitri wondered if it’d be selfish to take that gift so generously given to him and hold it dear. Byleth, the most incredible man he ever had the grace of knowing… Had chosen _him._

Dimitri, a simple human.

His brows furrowed, was he truly worth Byleth’s love?

Was he worth _any_ of his friend’s love? After how he had used them? After how he had treated them, abused them? 

There was a gentle thwap on the back of his head, Dimitri startled from his thoughts.

“I know not what you were thinking, but I do not believe it was good.”

Dimitri chuckled, albeit a bit forced, “My apologies, I was lost in my mind for a moment there.”

Flayn patted his shoulders and urged him to stand, “It is quite alright, such things happen to us all! Now then, you have a speech to get to, yes? I am quite looking forward to it. You will do splendidly, without a doubt!”

“Thank you, Flayn. I appreciate that.”

She nodded excitedly, and pushed him from the room. Dimitri allowed her the satisfaction of ‘forcing’ him out the door, for someone so much older than he was, she oft acted far younger than she was. 

Dimitri appreciated her energy.

* * *

Gazing out upon the sea of faces before him, Dimitri felt a stir of nausea bubble in his gut. He longed to have Byleth’s calming presence by his side, though he knew it was likely for the best he spoke this alone. Byleth would not always be beside him, he needed to be able to do his due diligence as a king without having his Beloved as a crutch.

Among the people, there were those that looked upon him with disgust and disdain. He deserved such hatred, he could only hope his efforts would pay off and he could earn their approval.

Dorothea’s reminder rang in his head.

Even if he never earned their love, he could not and _would not_ let it affect himself as a King.

“Hello, good people of Enbarr,” He started, drew in a breath, and steadied himself for the words that would come next.

“It has been a long time since I last stepped foot within your beautiful city. My heart breaks as I look around and see how you have suffered, how much more needs to be done. My only wish, as your King, is to help you restore this beautiful land to its former glory. The late Edelgard’s palace has been untouched for far too long, it belongs to all of you, far more than I could ever stake claim upon its walls. 

“Enbarr is rich with culture and knowledge, much has been lost in the war, but not all. I seek to turn those bloodied halls into a place of knowledge and guidance. I humbly ask your approval to turn the palace into a school for all, a place where any class can come and learn. Not of war, not of battle, but of peace, art, and magic.

“So long as I still breathe, I swear to you all, that I will do everything within my power to keep Fodlan safe, and to bring about an era of peace you have long since deserved. Perhaps it is presumptuous of me to ask for your forgiveness and trust, after all I had done. If it takes the rest of my life, I will strive to be the King your people deserve, as I cherish each and every one of you as I would any other person under my care.”

Murmurs erupted from the crowd, eventually growing into a cacophony of both cheers and shouts. Dimitri hoped they were speaking good things, the noise became white static in his mind. He couldn't understand what they were saying. 

Were they angry, happy?

Dimitri’s mind swam, and he was easily swept away from the stairs and center of attention into the reprieve of the palace itself. 

When the noise quieted, Dimitri became aware of the firm hand upon his lower back. His eye darted down to it’s owner, only to feel an enormous swell of relief when met with light hair and the scent of pine.

“Thank you.”

Byleth grunted, a small nod showed he had heard, but did not respond further until they were once again within the library. To his surprise, others were there as well. Lindardt, Dorothea, Manuela, Hanneman, Caspar, and even the men he had worked with merely two days ago when he assisted rebuilding a house.

“Is it too early to place an application to be a professor here? The library alone could keep me entertained for years,” Lindardt spoke first, voice free of the tired drawl it usually had.

Caspar elbowed him and snorted, “Hey man, at least wait until he gets to the table!”

Lindhardt pitched a whine, and stood on the other side of Dorothea, “See if I mend your broken fingers again.”

Parcel perked and slammed a roll of paper down onto a table that had been drawn into the center of the towering room, “We’ve got plans, King Patches.”

Byleth raised a brow, glanced up to Dimitri, back to the man, then released his hold on Dimitri and nudged him toward the table. It was in the absence of his hand that Dimitri realized how warm he had been, that… Didn't seem normal.

His mind was pulled from that to Caspar, as he spoke, “So! I got with the guys, and we drew up some ideas on how we could turn the palace into a proper school. It is already pretty damn equipped to host a ton of people comfortably, some repairs are a must, obviously. We could also do some renovating, to streamline everythin’ but Professor wanted us to run that by you first, since we were not sure how much you wanted to change.”

The paper was unfurled and held in place by shivs. 

Parcel spoke, “There is a servants quarters that could be repurposed into dorm rooms for kids coming here. There was also a place for nobles to sleep when visiting, figure that could be for professors that would live ‘round here during the school year? In terms of classrooms, we got a lot of rooms that could work? But they are… Not in the best shape”

Dimitri nodded, “Repairs will be needed regardless, but I would prefer to keep the core of the palace the same, however.”

Parcel pursed his lips and nodded, he drew black charcoal from equally black hair and made some notes, as well as crossed off some sketches on the paper.

“Oh this would be lovely, why, if I were not already committed to the officers academy I’d sign up to teach here in a heartbeat,” Manuela purred, and rested her cheek on her hand, “Come to think of it, the school hasn't started back up yet, has it, Byleth?”

Byleth’s voice seemed off when he spoke, but Dimitri couldn't place how, “No. We could move the academy here, with all that happened at Garreg Mach, I do not know how safe it would be for people to attend school again there.” 

“Perhaps the school could remain, but be more specialized?” Dimitri offered, “Be solely for those who seek to be knights, whilst the academy here could be for the pursuit of knowledge instead?”

The man considered it, then shrugged, “It will be some time before the academy is in proper state to host classes again anyway.”

Dimitri nodded, he would consider the option. Having Manuela and Hanneman’s expertise would undoubtedly be a massive asset to the school.

Parcel drew his attention back to the building layout with a few pats on the wood, “Ok, so how ‘bout something like this?”

Dimitri reluctantly left his beloved’s side to walk around the table and inspect the plans more carefully. It seemed the sketches that remained kept the building as close to how it already was as possible. 

He gestured to the throne room, where it would have become a lecture hall, “Leave Eledgard’s final resting place be, if possible. I… I do not wish to disturb her.”

The group turned to watch him, and Dimitri could feel a familiar buzz in his ears again under their gaze. It had been far too long since he had made speeches proper, perhaps he needed more practice. A pat to his shoulder snapped his out of it, Manuela did not speak, but kept her hand there regardless.

He cleared his throat, “I… Do not know what to do with the throne room yet, if possible, I’d like to keep it untouched for now. There will be many repairs going on the rest of the palace anyway, best to focus on those above that room for now.”

“Very well, Patches. I’ll make sure the rest of our folk know, once we finish that house we can get right to work here.”

“Please, prioritize any houses left unbuilt first, roofs over the people’s heads are far more important.”

Parcel nodded, rolled the paper back up, and trotted from the room. Only when he left did Manuela take her hand from his shoulder.

“Let us know if there is anything we can do to make the burden here a bit lighter on yourself, alright, Your Majesty?”

Dimitri was touched by Manuela’s soft words, “Thank you, I appreciate that, truely.”

She patted his arm, and with a wisp of white, left the room. One by one, the others followed after her. Until just he and Byleth remained in the massive chamber. 

After a moment’s pause, Dimitri crossed the distance between he and his beloved, and let his head thump upon Byleth’s shoulder. The man grunted at the weight, but made no complaints as thin fingers came up to pat his head. 

“You look nice.”

Dimitri chuckled, “Flayn did my hair.”

“I know, she was quite upset with how little you brush your hair.”

“Ah, she told you?”

“Mhm.”

Dimitri turned his head just enough to press a gentle kiss to the side of his neck, the skin felt warm and clammy. Different than it was normally, even within the baths. He pulled back to look over Byleth, the man seemed… Off kilter, somehow. 

His reaction time appeared slower than normal, given by the brief pause it took for Byleth to meet his gaze. His skin was far too warm, he looked drained. He brushed sweaty locks from his forehead, “Beloved, are you alright?”

“I am fine.”

Dimitri narrowed his eyes at him, “I do not know if I believe that.”

“It's fine, Dimitri.”

Now he _definitely_ did not believe him.

He grabbed the man’s arm, and tugged him along from the library. Byleth puffed a sigh, but allowed himself to be pulled along. Though, in truth, Dimitri could have hefted the man over his shoulder and taken him to Seteth with or without his cooperation. 

Probably.

Maybe.

Dimitri was far too focused on dragging Byleth to health to realize the many odd stares aimed in his direction. He only took note when he heard Caspar’s familiar laugh, then proceeded to pick up the pace, his cheeks warm with embarrassment.

Seteth was reading a scroll when Dimitri shouldered open the door to the office he had taken up residence in. The building had not been fully repaired yet, but it functioned well enough as a post, that people would deliver letters there to be sent out by couriers the following morning.

He raised his eyes from the paper, peered at the two over his glasses, and sighed.

“Now what?”

Byleth did not respond, so Dimitri spoke for him, “I fear he is ill.”

Seteth turned his narrowed gaze to Byleth, who still did not speak, instead just frowned, stubborn as ever. The man sighed and pushed from the desk, pacing around it to approach Byleth. He sunk in on himself as Seteth stood before him.

Without warning, Seteth grabbed Byleth’s chin and lifted it, then turned his head to either side. He forced Byleth to open his mouth, hummed, then looked at his eyes carefully. 

Dimitri almost felt pity for his Beloved, the poor man looked as if he were ready to crawl out of his skin. For how often they touched each other, Dimitri had forgotten just how much Byleth disliked being grabbed when not of his own accord.

Seteth stepped away once he had his fill, “Byleth is fine, what he is experiencing is quite natural. However, we will need to leave for Garreg Mach, Enbarr is no place for this.”

Dimitri hoped running his thumb along Byleth’s fingers was comforting, and nodded to Seteth.

“Very well, is there anything I can do to assist either of you?”

“No need. Finish what you must here, it is high time we returned to the monastery anyway. We’ve been gone longer than I am truly comfortable with.”

Dimitri did not feel secure being from Byleth’s side, even at Seteth’s assurance. He wondered what was wrong, normal or not, something clearly was up. Not knowing worried him.

Was he being overbearing? He was probably being overbearing.

He let go of Byleth’s hand, “Very well, please let me know if there is anything I can do to help.”

Dimitri hesitated, then turned and left the room. As he closed the door behind him, he overheard Seteth’s sigh, “I told you we should have returned _days_ ago… You will be in for a rough ride back.”

“Dimitri needed me.”

“Yes, well, I’ll go collect Flayn, you get your things packed. We leave at once.”

He was swift to leave after that, his heart in his throat. Dimitri really needed to get the man to prioritize his own health, no matter how grateful he was that he stayed.

* * *

Dimitri wiped sweat from his brow, and leaned back against a partially built wall. 

Construction of homes went by faster when he helped, they managed to finish two already in the week he had remained at Enbarr. 

Many that had accompanied him returned to their respective places. Claude left the day after Byleth, guess there was some business in Almyra to sort out. Lorenz left as well, since Claude returned to his homeland, Lorenz had taken over as acting governor of the area the Alliance once held.

He was stressed beyond words, but had also mellowed out. Far less flirtatious than he remembered him being when they were in the academy. Perhaps he had calmed from his pursuit of women for awhile now, in truth, Dimitri had paid little attention to him when his mind only sought revenge.

Everyone changed, thinking back on it now.

Coming into their own, growing as people. Sylvain no longer chased ladies, instead he was a doting and faithful partner to Felix, who in turn changed as well. The man was laid back, less prone to violent snapping. He still yelled a lot, but much of his words lacked their usual heat. He was happy.

Ingrid grew, she was rebuilding her family’s fortune on her own, without marrying. Dimitri was proud of her, and if he often paid her generously for her constant running around for his sake, well, that was between him and his own gold.

Ashe was trying to start a restaurant on the side with his siblings, between being a guard for him alongside Dedue. He had seen the way his dear friend’s eyes softened when his gaze fell upon the aspiring cook, Dimitri wondered when Dedue would try to court Ashe himself. Afterall, if Dimitri had the courage to ask Byleth, surely Dedue could find some to speak with him.

Dimitri made a mental note to pester Dedue about it when they next had time alone together.

It was only fair to return the favor.

“Hey Patches, c’mere!” The voice of one of the fellow builders, Miana, he recalled, waved to get his attention.

He stood from his brief break, and trotted over to join her and Parcel, where they were struggling lifting a rafter into place with some rope. Dimitri grabbed the rope and pulled the long stretch of wood up, Miana scrambled up the ladder set near where the beam was to be nailed, and got to work leveling the wood and hammering it into place.

“Man, times like this make me wish I had one of those wyverns,” Parcel whined, and sneezed some sawdust from his face.

“Why is that?”

“You could just, y’know, fly up there and nail stuff together, no need for a ladder.”

Dimitri considered it, “I do not think they would have enough room for their wings in here.”

“Yeah, plus I’ve heard those things are cranky sons of bitches,” Miana snorted, then, “Hey keep her steady Patches.”

“Ah! Sorry, sorry.”

Parcel grabbed the rope as well, less to help keep it up, and more to steady the wooden beam, “I’ve never met a wyvern before, they _look_ pretty mean.”

“My Beloved has a wyvern, Dagur. Once you earn her trust, she is quite friendly.”

“Oh yeah, and how do you do that?” Miana inquired, though the words were muffled around the nails she held between her teeth.

“Well, I rescued Dagur from some rubble years ago. When Byleth… Well, that doesn't matter. He was unable to care for her at the time, so I freed her, and occasionally left food out for her as she recovered.”

“Sounds like you treated her more like a stray dog than a trusted ally,” Parcel laughed.

Dimitri chuckled along as well, Parcel likely did not know how true he was.

After he had escaped his execution, he had fled to the monastery. He could not recall his exact thoughts at the time, but he knew they were of Byleth, and of revenge. Perhaps a part of him had hoped Byleth returned there. 

Imperial soldiers had taken over the place when he arrived, he slaughtered them all. 

When he had wandered around the halls like akin to a lost animal, he had come across a wyvern, wing trapped under rubble from the destruction by those that had taken Garreg Mach over. He remembered thinking it was pathetic, clearly underweight, the animal had likely been there for some time. 

The cowards that called themselves soldiers were probably too frightened to go near it.

Dimitri had intended to kill her, until he saw the silver broach that hung from one of her horns. It was woven around the protrusion with white ribbon and leather. Dimitri, even in his bloodthirsty addled mind, recognized it as the very broach he had gifted Byleth on the man’s birthday. 

He freed her from the rubble, tossed the meat he had planned to cook for himself that night near her, and left her alone. 

She hunted, healed, and occasionally, returned the favor.

They were nothing but feral beasts without their master to guide them. Even when he traveled to hunt down those his mind told him too, when he returned, Dagur was there. She watched over him at night, he knew. Kept the monastery free of vermin when he was away. 

He wondered how many of the rumors of the monster that lived within Garreg Mach were actually about her, and not himself, as others often believed.

“Patches, you alright there?” 

Dimitri nearly dropped his hold on the rope, and Parcel giggled, “You are super out of it. Worried about your _Beloved?_ ”

It took Dimitri a moment to familiarize himself with his surroundings before he relaxed. He sighed and nodded, then, “How could you guess?”

Miana slid down the ladder, and moved it to the other side of the building, “Well, Lauro said he saw you dragging a very disheveled looking man around the square a week ago, said you looked concerned. Then, the guy left that same day. Not hard to put two and two together.”

It occurred to him that they did not realize Byleth was the Archbishop. He didn't feel the need to tell them, so he nodded.

“Yes, he is a _very_ stubborn man, and will not get himself help unless you drag him to it.”

“Was it the same man who side-eyed me when I called you Patches after your speech?” Parcel inquired, and released the rope to scratch behind his ear, Miana yelled at him, and he swiftly took the rope in hand again.

“Perhaps, his hair is a lovely light shade of green.”

“Creepy eyes?”

“Well… _I_ think they are rather beauti-”

“Yeah, same guy,” Parcel shuddered, “I was a bit worried he was going to kill me in my sleep.”

Dimitri laughed, hard.

“What? You can not tell me that man doesn’t know 12 ways to kill you with like… I don't know, his pinky.”

“Honestly, he very well may. He once was a mercenary, you know.”

Miana stared down at him from her perch, “Wow, _the King_ with a former mercenary? What sort of love story did you two stumble from?”

“Nothing quite so frivolous, I assure you. He was… Simply there when I needed him the most. Byleth tends to unsettle people when they first meet him, a lot, but once you get to know him, he is truly the kindest and most thoughtful man you ever will meet.”

“So… What? Bodyguard? Saved you from some ruffians like a dashing hero?” Parcel cooed, Dimitri got the sneaking suspicion they were making fun of him.

Still, he would never tire talking of Byleth.

“No, he was my Professor, believe it or not.”

Miana choked, “Your _what?_ ”

“I mean, it was well over five years ago now, but he had taught briefly at the Officers Academy at Garreg Mach. That is how we knew each other, though yes, he did save my life from Bandits the first night we met.”

“Huh, didn't take the guy for a teaching type.”

“Neither did anyone else, honestly. But he was a fantastic one, if not a bit eccentric on how he taught us.”

Parcel nodded along, and let go of the rope - much to Miana’s growing irritation - as the tell-tale sound of wheels entered the building’s rough structure. They got a new wagon.

“Got more bricks!” Caspar cheered.

“Nice! Did you know King Patches’ _Beloved_ used to be his professor?” Parcel stage-whispered, much to both Dimitri’s and Caspar’s amusement.

“Uh, _duh._ We went to the same school, I even ended up being transferred into his class I’ll have you know.”

“Really? Was he strict?”

Caspar shrugged, “Eh, not really. But he left us to our own devices if we fucked up. Unless our lives were in danger I guess, but still.”

“Huh, he looked like he would have been super strict and scary.”

“Oh hell yeah he was, until you got to know him. Or you pissed him off, then he was _actually_ scary.”

Dimitri did not recall a time Byleth had gotten angry at any of the students.

Parcel helped him hold the rope again and inquired, “Yeah? What’d you do?”

“Nah, he was never angry at us. But you should have seen him when he met Bernadetta’s father for the first time, or heard people talking shit about Dedue.”

“Will you three stop gossiping like children and hold the rope steady?” Miana groused, it was only then that Dimitri realized she hung half off the ladder, her arm hooked around the wood to try and keep it level whilst she also tried to hammer.

“Sorry.”

Caspar and Parcel barely acknowledged her, though both took hold of the rope and evened out the long stretch of wood.

“He gave us flowers, _all the time._ Never said anything about it either just, oh hey, here’s your daily flower,” Caspar laughed, “Oh and tea with him was either a complete disaster or the best you’ve ever had. No inbetween with that guy.”

“Never took you for the sort that likes tea, Blue.”

“Normally I don't, but I don't know what magic he infused the tea I have with him now, because it is delicious. You should get him to pour you a cup, I’m sure you’d love it.”

“Maybe the next time I see him and he doesn't look like he wants to kill me, I will.”

“Nah man, that's just his face.”

“Oh, lovely.”

“You get used to it.”

Miana tossed her hammer down, it flew a mere breath from Caspar’s head, “If you two do not stop rambling, I will kick you both out an’ Patches and I will finish up and get paid for the work _we’re_ actually doing.”

“Sorry Ma’am.”

Dimitri chuckled, would it be strange to invite the carpenters up to Fhirdiad? Well, it would be an awfully long trip just to treat them to lunch, perhaps when he needed a large-scale project done there he would hire them. 

* * *

By the time the second week passed, most remaining houses were rebuilt, and construction on the palace began in earnest. 

“It’ll be fine, Your Majesty,” Dorothea assured, and patted his knee, “I will send frequent updates, and Caspar promised he’d make sure the approved layout will be followed to the T.”

“Thank you Dorothea, truely.”

“Yes, yes. Now go see our Professor, you're not the only one worried about him you know! Make sure to write as soon as you learn of his state, if I hear the man did something to hurt himself again I will go up there myself and strangle him.”

Dimitri snorted a laugh, “You’d have to wait until Seteth and Flayn finished with him.”

“Oh I would, do not try me, Dimitri.”

“I don't doubt that.”

She nodded firmly, and pulled away from Juniper Axe’s side. Caspar and a couple others were there to see him off. Manuela decided to stay in Enbarr for a bit longer, she wished to visit with Hanneman while construction for the school began. Though she made it very clear to send word the moment Byleth did something foolish, and she would be there in record time.

Ingrid hummed beside him on her pegasus, she seemed quite chipper. Dimitri took a moment to wonder why, then decided he could always inquire on their journey to the Monastery. Instead, he turned his horse to the gates and gave a small wave to the group that had gathered at the gates of Enbarr.

Enbarr no longer seemed such a terrifying place. He was thankful for that small gift, he actually looked forward to the next chance he’d have to return to the sprawling city. Now, however, he was more excited to see his Beloved again.

Though, also concerned. He had yet to receive any letters of troubling news from Seteth or Flayn, so he knew he could rest assured that Byleth was in more or less good health. But he worried for the man even so. 

The city disappeared behind him as they rode on, northeast, toward Gronder Field to cross the bridge and travel to the Monastery. Dedue cleared his throat, as they set up camp for the evening. 

Dimitri finished pitching his own tent before turning to his friend, “Everything alright, Dedue?”

“I should be asking _you_ that,” The man rumbled, “Byleth left suddenly, you have not spoken of it.”

It struck him that Seteth must not have said anything to their peers when he left with Flayn and Byleth. To be fair though, neither did Dimitri, he supposed. Of course they’d be worried about him, he was not the only one that loved Byleth.

“It… Slipped my mind,” Dimitri clasped one fold of the tent to the wooden post that supported it, keeping the temporary shelter open, “He is alright, I think. Seteth was unconcerned, but they needed to return to Garreg Mach for… Treatment.”

Not speaking the whole truth to Dedue felt wrong. He trusted him as he did no other, he was Dimitri’s closest friend. To be hiding something from him felt like a betrayal of that trust. Yet… He had promised. He could not tell Dedue the reality of Byleth’s nature. 

Dedue’s eyes narrowed, perhaps Dimitri was not as good at dancing around the truth as he had hoped. 

He deflated, “I do not know what exactly is happening to him, he is ill, but Seteh assured me he will be fine. That is all I was told.”

The man nodded and swooped down to help him finish the fastening of the tent, “I see. We will be stopping by the Monastery on our way back to Fhirdiad, yes?”

“Yes, I do have to return the healers that accompanied us.”

Dedue nodded once, and that was that.

“Your Majesty.”

Dimitri stood to face Ingrid, the woman had a bundle of papers in her arms. Dimitri offered to take them from her, which she eagerly took advantage of and dumped the pile onto his hands.

“There is paperwork that needs to be gone over and signed. I tried to sort it by importance, some minor lords are having a squabble over a hunt, another claims one of their rival house’s son killed their prized goat, and threatens to start a _battle_ over it… Concerns of rising theft in the west, inquiries about taxes, minor market disputes, and… Well, _marriage proposals._ ”

Dimitri snorted at the way Indgrid’s lip lifted as she spoke of the marriage proposals, he shared her sentiment toward them. Still, he would have to write back each one and state he was uninterested in their courtship, such were proper manners.

Perhaps he needed to be more blatant in his courtship of Byleth? He wasn't sure how much more obvious he could be, he had the man’s ring around his neck constantly. He hasn't taken it off since he found leather sturdy enough to string around his neck.

Maybe he should string it in silver or gold? Make it more obvious at a glance?

Dedue peered around him to pluck a paper from the bottom, his eyes scanned over the page, he snorted, and returned it. 

Ingrid sighed, “They're awful.”

“They are,” Dedue agreed, “You truly have to write back to each one?”

“I am a King, if I do not show my people the proper respect, how can I lead them?”

“It is no secret you are courting his Grace,” Ingrid groused, she worried her lip between her teeth, “ _They're_ the ones with no respect.”

Dimitri agreed with her, but shrugged even so, “Such is life. I have no interest in them, I will write as such.”

Ingrid scoffed, “You are far nicer than I would have been, were I in your position.”

“I am well aware, Ingrid. Speaking of which,” Dimitri tucked the papers under an arm, and grinned at her, “You were awfully chipper when we were in Enbarr, something I should know of?”

The woman immediately flushed red, “I… Am needed, over there, on the other side of the camp, _away_ from you.”

Ingrid darted away from him with speed he had rarely seen her demonstrate. He chuckled, and turned into his tent, Dedue on his tail.

“I should get a head start on these, perhaps I can send Ingrid and a few other couriers ahead to Fhirdiad so these letters may be delivered swiftly.”

Dedue took station behind him as Dimitri began to work, silent, but there if Dimitri needed him. His back ached, next time he would be doing this much traveling, he’d bring proper carriages. Writing letters on his thigh was far from professional, still, his armor provided a decent enough hard surface to work from.

* * *

Garreg Mach stood proud against the sky and mountains surrounding it.

It was a relief to see the area untouched by any sort of damage or signs of battle, of course, he would have known if there had been any trouble, but still. He was glad things were alright.

The healers that accompanied him split off as they crossed the monestary’s walls, no doubt each returning to their proper places or rooms. He hoped they got some rest before they began their duties, traveling was exhausting, especially when unaccustomed to it.

Ingrid and a few of her other pegasus knights had flown ahead to Fhirdiad, he had finished writing his responses to each of the papers that were sent to him. He had the time when they set up camp at night.

His first stop was the stables. Once Juniper Axe was settled, he gave the horse a carrot, and found his way to the Cathedral.

Usually, Byleth was there, however Seteth led the faithful instead.

Worry blossomed in Dimitri’s gut, but he remained silent as the sermons concluded. Seteth spotted him easily, and once the room had emptied out for the most part, he approached. 

“I see you are back, all well in Enbarr?”

“Yes, the palace has begun construction, and most houses have been repaired now.”

Seteth nodded, “Good, I take you're here for Byleth though, yes?”

“Yes, is he… Alright?”

“He is fine, dramatic, but fine,” He snorted, Dimitri wasn't sure what to make of that response, so he chose to stay silent as Seteth led him from the Cathedral. 

“What is happening to him?”

Seteth gestured for him to climb the stairs, “Something that happens to all of our kind, albeit, quite late and in… Odd circumstances.”

“Which is…?”

The man remained quiet until they started to climb to the third floor, “For lack of a better word in your tongue, _puberty._ ”

Dimitri laughed, though his chuckles petered out as when they reached the top step, the entire floor reeked of smoke and ash. His heart began to hammer in his chest, but before panic took hold, Seteth placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

He swept past him, and started to bang on the heavy wooden door that led to Byleth’s room.

“I told you to send word if you caught something on fire again!”

“I handled it,” Came Byleth’s irritated reply.

“ _Handled it_ ,” Seteth scoffed, “If you destroy your room I am not allowing you to take residence in another!”

“It is fine.”

Seteth rolled his eyes, “How is your lip healing?”

“ _Fine._ ”

The man shook his head, and gestured for Dimitri to approach, he did, though was unsure what all was happening.

“Open the door.”

“No.”

Seteth drew a hand down his face, “He is worse than Flayn was, and she had been a nightmare.”

Dimitri laughed, “He just sounds tired.”

The door opened shortly after he spoke, Byleth had a blanket wrapped around him, only his face visible from the cotton. His heart ached at the sight, he had missed the man so, _so,_ much. Though, he looked absolutely miserable. 

His skin was ashen pale, bags were prominent under his eyes, and the man was sweating, despite being wrapped so firmly in a blanket, and shivering. Dimitri scooted closer, and opened his arms as a silent invitation, Byleth accepted and thumped his head against his chest.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Seteth sighed, “Your Majesty, since your lover here seems incapable, please tell me if he sets something on fire or does some other stupid thing.”

Dimitri chuckled, “I will.”

The man nodded and turned on his heel, returning downstairs. 

He rubbed his face on Byleth’s sweaty hair, “I missed you.”

“Me too.”

“You smell like a campfire.”

Byleth grunted, the noise muffled by Dimitri’s armor. That couldn't be comfortable, yet, Byleth appeared perfectly content to just press his cheek against the metal. When he made no motion to move, Dimitri realized he’d have to wrassle his beloved back to getting the bedrest he very clearly needed.

He maneuvered the man to sit on the edge of his bed as he unclasped his armor, some sheets pushed in a far corner of the room had a black ashen tinge to them. Must have been Byleth’s latest victim.

Dimitri really hoped Byleth wouldn't set him on fire as well.

“Are you alright, need anything?”

Byleth shook his head, and adjusted the blanket wrapped around him, pulling it even closer.

He really wished he had Mercede’s touch when it came to this sort of thing. She always knew the right words to say, and how to coax out the best way to help even the most stubborn of patients. Dimitri should know, he had been one of them many times.

It frustrated him, not having all the information.

Dimitri wanted to know everything, wanted to know why the man was setting stuff on fire, wanted to know why he looked so ill, wanted to know what part of this insanity screamed ‘puberty’? When he was in his cotton underclothes, he sat beside Byleth on his bed.

“Do you want me to rest with you?”

Byleth nodded, and scooted away from him, presumably giving him room to lay down. Dimitri took the quiet invitation, and laid down, adjusting himself so he could be under at least some of the blankets Byleth hadn't hoarded around himself like a cacoon. When he stilled, Byleth flopped down against his side, his head just over his heart.

He was hot.

Not in an attractive way, well, he _was,_ but he more so was concerned how hot the man’s skin was. No person’s skin would ever get that hot, short of being cooked alive. Yet there Byleth was, pressed against his side, the heat he exuded was almost painful. He shifted to relive some of his more sensitive skin from the searing heat, and when he found a good enough middleground between allowing Byleth to cuddle with him, and not getting cooked himself, Dimitri settled down.

Dimitri was terribly uncomfortable, given how tense Byleth was, he could probably tell.

He pulled an arm to rest over the blankets around Byleth’s shoulders, that seemed to ease the man’s stiffness, and he relaxed against him. Though Byleth was more careful to put a bit of a distance between them. Dimitri pulled him close, and just adjusted them so they did not make direct skin contact, it helped, and he let his head fall back on the pillows that piled the head of the bed.

In what seemed like mere minutes, soft breaths Dimitri had come to associate with Byleth sleeping, were heard. Good, he clearly needed the rest.

Though Dimitri was uncomfortably warm.

He noticed the book Byleth had grabbed from Enbarr rested on the little nightstand beside his bed. Dimitri, with great care not to disturb Byleth, reached over to grab it, then flipped it open. He couldn't read it, but maybe if he looked at the pictures long enough, he could discern some sort of meaning.

The page with the faded four-winged dragon had been bookmarked with a ribbon, Dimitri was careful not to lose the place, as he turned the page. More dragons, one looked like a turtle. As he continued to pursue the images the book held, he stopped when he came to a page of humans.

Or, human-like figures.

They all had striking green hair and green eyes that were too bright, too narrow, too… Too much like Byleth’s.

He flipped to the next page.

The people had sharp fangs and pointed ears, and could turn into dragons? Or perhaps it was the other way around, perhaps the dragons could turn into them. There was an image of a man that looked far too much like Seteth for Dimitri’s comfort, and flipped to the next page. 

It was a city, maybe. Built in some sort of canyon, it seemed magnificent, there were a ton of notes scribbled all over the pages. Dimitri could almost feel the excitement of the author through the increasingly messy scrawl. The next page was of clothes, bright vibrant patterns were shown, and an image of a young woman with pointed ears and hair longer than Dimitri thought to truly be practical was illustrated. 

Something about her itched at Dimitri’s mind.

Even through a mere drawing, the girl seemed regal, exuding a power Dimitri could not fathom. She had the same eyes Byleth did, as they gazed off into whatever had caught her attention at the time, her chin propped up on her palm, expression neutral, but kind. 

Like Byleth.

On a whim, Dimitri carefully tucked some hair from Byleth’s face and behind a single _rounded_ ear. Of course, what had he expected? How utterly foolish.

He closed the book, perhaps the strain of travel had been getting to him. He was exhausted. 

Dimitri set it back on the nightstand, and scooted himself down to properly embrace his Beloved. The man mumbled his irritation at being moved, but Dimitri kissed his grousing away with a single peck to his far too warm forehead. 

There was another white spot, just below his jaw, pearlescent. Beautiful yet terrifying in it’s mystery.

What was happening to Byleth?

Dimitri feared what the future might bring for his Beloved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heck, y'all have no idea how hard it was not to just keep posting these guys as I finish them. I originally was going to update this on Monday, but ya boy impatient so here we are. Chapter 9 will be out on monday though! I'm thinking maybe updating twice a week? Or perhaps just once, but like, on a friday or something.
> 
> Regardless! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, Dimitri will FINALLY learn that Byleth is a dragon next chapter, so rest assured, he will only be boo boo the fool for a bit longer.
> 
> And of course, thank you for your support and comments so far! They really make my day to read.
> 
> As usual, here is my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/vulturepops) and [Tumblr](https://disastergays.tumblr.com/) if you want to come chat or somethin, I draw stuff occasionally too.


	9. Of Dragons and Absurdity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It would be easier to focus on sleep, had voices not been squabbling just outside his door for five minutes now.

Dimitri did not sleep that night.

At all.

Laying beside Byleth was akin to laying upon an open flame. His skin itched and he was far, far too warm to be comfortable. Yet, he suffered through it without complaint. If Byleth could power through whatever was happening to him, so that he could stay at Enbarr to support him, Dimitri could do the same.

Dimitri hoped the heat he emanated would not be a permanent thing. He would hate not being able to enjoy Byleth’s warmth at his side. Or, perhaps he could build a tolerance for it? Living in Faerghus would make that difficult, but he’d find a way to get himself more accustomed to heat.

There was a hitch of breath beside him, followed by a murmured curse.

He let his eye open and glanced down to see Byleth awake, curled further in on himself. Dimitri’s brow furrowed, but he did not move. 

Not until Byleth’s hand slid from the cocoon of blankets around him and tugged on his shirt, his grip weak and shaky, voice equally so, “Dimitri, I- I need… Get Seteth.”

Dimitri was on his feet in a heartbeat. He grabbed the man, and flew from the room. Byleth was frighteningly silent, even as Dimitri skipped a few steps from his race down the third floor, and nearly sent them both to the ground. He righted himself before they fell, and ran to Seteth’s office.

The sun had not yet risen, and so too, it seemed Seteth was still asleep.

Where were his chambers?

“Byleth, where does Seteth sleep?”

Byleth grunted, his eyes were squeezed shut, he was in pain. Dimitri adjusted his grip, and hoped how he carried him was not adding to it.

“C-Cathedral. Outside, there are… Rooms, to the left.”

Dimitri wasted no further time as he ran as fast as his sleep-addled legs could take him. A part of Dimitri was grateful few were awake yet, the last thing he needed to deal with was people seeing him in his underclothes, panicking, carrying the Archbishop around in a bundle of blankets. Oh the talk that would stem from that would be horrid.

There were a few night guards posted in the skies, though, he had no doubt they’d be reporting the oddest thing to their superior come morning.

The Cathedral was eery when silent, no music, no voices. Nothing but the drip of water against glass from when it had rained the evening prior. Dimitri followed Byleth’s vague instructions, and found himself before a hall, just to the left of the Cathedral, within a smaller offshoot of the massive place.

Who all resided here?

It didn't matter, his fist made contact with the closest door, the wood buckled under his force, but he did not care. He’d replace it himself if he had to, Byleth was in pain, his temperature rose at an alarming level, enough so Dimitri could feel his skin burn, even through the layers that surrounded him.

The door flung open, Flayn blinked at him, her eyes still half closed as she took in the sight before her. She wore a nightgown, it brushed against her knees as she rubbed her eye, her hair tied behind her in a braid. 

Ah, Dimitri thought in a moment of clarity, she  _ did _ braid her hair.

Flayn’s eyes widened when she saw the state of Byleth in his arms, “Oh dear.”

Her bare feet smacked against the stone as she ran a couple rooms over and started banging on the door, “Brother! Brother, wake up!”

Seteth stumbled from the door with the grace of a bull among porcelain. His eyes wide, frantic. They settled on Flayn, and he relaxed, only to stiffen again when they rested on Dimitri, or more accurately, Byleth. 

“For  _ fucks sake- _ Flayn, get dressed. We need to leave immediately.”

Seteth strode over to Dimitri, and pulled at the blankets around Byleth, more white spots peppered up his neck and jaw, they glowed in the dark of the stone walls around them. What were they?

His hand rested on Byleth’s sweaty forehead, Dimitri opened his mouth to warn him of the heat, but Seteth seemed entirely unbothered as his bare skin made contact with Byleth’s. His brows furrowed, and he grabbed Byleth from his arms. 

Dimitri was reluctant to release him.

“ _ Dimitri, _ ” Seteth’s voice was stern, “I will take care of him from here. Go to the infirmary for your burns, you should not have been holding him for so long.”

The blankets fell open as Seteth slung Byleth’s arm around his shoulders, and used his own arm to steady him. Dimitri wrung his fingers together, he could feel where blisters were beginning to form along his forearms and palms. The cloth around Byleth’s shoulders started to smoulder.

Seteth sighed and brushed the covers off of him, infuriatingly calm. Byleth wore nothing but cotton pants, they too started to smoke. 

“Nothing can be easy with you, can it?” Seteth groused, and led the man away from Dimitri, into his own room, just as Flayn reappeared, fully dressed, though her hair still in a braid.

“Here,” Flayn, with gentle tugs, pulled his hands apart and ran her glowing palms along his skin, where the blisters had begun to take form. 

They stung, even as the cool wave of magic washed over them. He flinched when she had brushed over a particularly sensitive one, though relaxed as the green folded itself into his flesh, and healed where he had been burnt.

“You alright, Little Brother?”

Dimitri chuckled, she barely came up to his ribs, and yet she still called him  _ little _ brother. It was… Nice. In a strange, foreign, way.

“Yes, thank you. My concerns are for Byleth though.”

Flayn nodded, “Ah. He will be alright, he has a rather backwards way of doing things though.”

“How so?”

“Well,” Flayn hummed, “Normally the first shift is from dragon to human, not the other way around. The  _ second _ shift is back to dragon again. It is like… He skipped the first one!”

**_What?_ **

Oblivious to Dimitri’s confusion and only  _ mild _ panic, she patted his arm, “Do not fret though! My second shift had been a  _ disaster! _ Why, I burnt down the whole cabin, Mother found it hilarious… Fa- erm,  _ Brother _ found it less so.”

When Seteth emerged from his room, both he and Byleth were dressed. The cloak and tunic draped around Byleth’s body looked strange, they shone like silk, yet did not seem to swealter against the heat Dimitri knew radiated from his Beloved’s body. Perhaps they were enchanted, or specially crafted for folk like him.

Dimitri’s head hurt.

Seteth flipped the hood up over the back of Byleth’s head, to hide the shimmering white dots, no,  _ scales, _ that littered his face. 

“Flayn, make sure you pack clothes, we will be gone for some time.”

“Hm? Are we not going to the village?”

Seteth shook his head, “No, not until he has himself under control.”

Dimitri chewed on the end of his thumb, worrying the calloused skin between his teeth, “Village?”

They both tensed when he spoke, and he realized he probably was not meant to have heard that.

“You will likely learn of it, in due time, but for now, know it is a safe place Byleth will likely take residence in from time to time as needed.”

That was enough for him. Flayn trotted back into her room, and Seteth adjusted his grip on Byleth, only to find the man leaning even further down on him. He sighed, then nodded to Dimitri, “Will you help me get him on my back, he is quite useless right now.”

Dimitri did not need to be asked twice. He moved behind them, and gently guided Byleth’s searing limbs around Seteth’s shoulders, and helped him adjust his legs, before Seteth pushed to his feet proper, Byleth hung limp from his back.

“Does… That not hurt?”

Seteth shook his head, and bounced the man further up his back, “No, our kind naturally runs hot, heat does not bother us as it does humans.”

They stood in silence, Flayn could be heard rustling around her room, packing whatever she would need on their journey. When she emerged, a bag dangling from her slim fingers, Seteth brushed past Dimitri, and kneed open the door. 

Mist floated through the air. Not truely raining, but a gentle cool fog settled over the Monastery. Dimitri followed them out, and held the door for Flayn, padding behind them as they traveled down stone steps to the stable. Flayn let out her pegasus, and whistled. 

Dimitri watched her silently, confused, until the flap of wings above them were heard. Seteth’s wyvern landed before them, and Dagur perched upon the roof of the stable, water dripped from their smooth scales.

Seteth maneuvered Byleth onto the warm brown wyvern’s back. Dimitri helped the man orient him so he wouldn't slide off, and kept his hand near the far too warm leg, in case Byleth lost his balance while Seteth tossed bags over the pegasus’ haunches.

“We will be gone for some time, Dimitri,” Seteth spoke, and brushed damp hair from his sister’s face. 

“I figured, I suppose this is one of the times we will need to be apart, and that is alright. I eagerly await his, and your, return. I only ask for you to bring him back safely.”

Seteth nodded, “Of course, he is family. We take care of our own.”

Dimitri nodded back, and stepped away when Seteth mounted his wyvern behind Byleth’s shivering body. He adjusted the reigns, and pressed the back of his hand to Byleth’s forehead. The man’s eyes were no longer open, he barely seemed conscious. Dimitri feared for his health.

Seteth patted Byleth’s head, largely unconcerned, and urged his wyvern to stand, he turned his head to regard him, “You are family as well, Dimitri, do not do something foolish while we are gone.”

Without another word, and a flap of wings, they were gone. Dagur remained on the roof of the stables for a moment. She hopped down to stand beside Dimitri’s frozen form, butted her head against his arm, then took off into the sky to fly after them.

Family.

He was…  _ Family. _

It was hard to tell if the water that fell along his cheek were tears or the result of the skies opening to rain in earnest.

* * *

Dimitri could not focus in the slightest. His mind would not let him rest, constantly shifting to Byleth, longing to be by his side once more.

He couldn't tell if it was his concern for the state of Byleth when he saw him last, or if he had begun to develop some sort of separation anxiety, like a stray mutt. Dimitri knew thinking of himself as a feral creature wasn't healthy, but damn if it didn't fit how he acted for five years before Byleth returned to them.

He growled and snarled at everything around him, Byleth at the time had to physically wrestle him into a bath when he had let a wound fester and get infected. Again.

Dimitri turned his head, his cheek pressed against the cold wood of his desk, there were still so many papers that needed to get done. He understood more now why his father always seemed happy for interruptions from his work. What he wouldn't give for some nondescript  _ something _ to happen so he could have an excuse to not suffer through the dull words of the stuck up.

No, no. It wouldn't do good to think of the nobility as a whole as ‘stuck up’. 

Some of them had valid concerns and reasons for writing to him, he could respect that. Others wrote to him because they were inviting him to the grand birthday of their family’s dog. He had to respond, politely, that he was flattered, but would be unable to make it to Sir Thoose’s third year birthday celebration.

Even those that wrote to him because they were irritated in how the commoners of their territory were acting, were still his subjects. He still needed to treat and write to them with respect, even if being in the same room as some of them made his skin crawl. 

He sorely missed his Beloved, and he had only been without him for a week.

The gentle knocks on Dimitri’s door were a very, very, welcome distraction. He leaned back in his blue chair, “Come in.”

Dedue peeked his head inside, then stepped in fully and shut the door behind him. His brows were furrowed, but held no paper in his hand that could have been the cause. 

Dimitri rested his elbow on the arm of his chair, “What troubles you, my friend?”

“Ingrid reported there have been unusual movements in bandits south of here, she says they carry no banner, but she does not believe them to be the usual lowlifes.”

That was concerning. He trusted Ingrid’s judgement, if there was something off about the bandits she had spied, they clearly had something planned. Perhaps a coupe? The thought was not wholly concerning, he had more than enough confidence in defending himself and his people, but still. People do not revolt without reason.

“Do we know their motives?”

Dedue shook his head, “Ingrid sent some of her best to keep an eye on them, and will report back when she finds anything. They seemed to be moving toward the Sreng region.”

Well, that would be a ridiculous place to try and spurn a revolution, so it likely was not the case. He wondered what could be there that they searched for, or perhaps they simply were from that region, and were returning home? Ingrid  _ could _ jump the horse on things, especially when other matters plagued her mind.

Dimitri knew he was far from the only one that worried for their former professor.

He traveled back to Fhirdiad the day after Byleth left with Seteth and Flayn, he had wanted to stay there, protect the monastery until it’s guardian returned. Yet, he was ushered away, mostly by Alois, assuring him he’d keep everything under control while they were away. Dimitri trusted him, but still did not want to leave.

Dedue ultimately was the one who convinced him to return to his people. As strange as it may be, he often considered Garreg Mach more of a home than his own castle. Perhaps it was the memories he had built there, or the years he spent defending it from others. He wondered if there would be a way to change that, a way to truly feel comfortable in his own room, his own home.

A small voice told him that home was where Byleth was. He was inclined to agree, but he also recognized he needed to not be so dependent on Byleth.

Another voice said it lacked the blood of sinners rightfully spilled. He ignored that one.

He heaved a sigh, and grabbed another paper from the endless pile, oh wonderful, another marriage proposal.

**_My_ ** _ Dearest King, _

Ah, great start.

_ I have chosen to follow my heart, and make the mature decision to seek your courtship. My mind is always full of thoughts of you and your heroic deeds, why just writing this my heart beats so very fast. Such things have been on my mind for a while now, and I simply must make my love known. _

_ I know within my heart we would be perfect together. My family line is strong, and many of our kin bear crests easily. I surely will be no different from my mother, or my grandmother before her. We could have the strongest heir together, I am sure. I know my heart is true, and our union would be one celebrated for generations.  _

_ I eagerly await your acceptance, _

_ Lady Eva of house Belka. _

He wanted nothing more to rip the paper up and burn it, but alas. He could not. He was a king, and as such, his duty was to be kind to his people. Including when they wanted to make him tear his hair out.

He had not noticed Dedue approach, and startled when Dedue started laughing. 

“Are they all like that?”

“Like what?”

Dedue made a vague motion with his hand, “Ridiculous.”

Dimitri chuckled, “Yes, mostly.”

“All from women?”

That… Caught Dimitri off guard. He blinked a few times, then turned to glance up at his friend, “Yes? Yes, I do believe so. Why?”

Dedue shrugged, “I had figured you preferred the company of men, I am surprised none have written to you.”

_ Did _ he prefer the company of men? 

Dimitri had not given it any thought, he had only truly wanted Byleth in such an… Intimate way. Sure, he found his eyes lingering occasionally on other men in his youth, but that's all it was. Simple glances appreciating a well toned figure from years as a mercenary, or the way Byleth’s hair would flow around his slim neck when he turned, or how his footwork was always so sure.

Dimitri wondered in the privacy of his own room at night, what it would take for the man to lose his composure.

Oh.

Oh dear.

He looked at women too, right? Shit, other people,  _ right? _ Ingrid is pretty enough, so are Mercedes and Dorothea of course. 

They had nice shapes. 

Very soft. 

Good?

Dimitri ran a hand through his hair, surely he was just as attracted to women, right? Sure, preferring the same sex was far from a problem in Faerghus, had not been for generations, yet… Marrying was occasionally frowned upon. Especially in higher bred families.

Not that it would stop Dimitri from courting and marrying his Beloved, of course, but it brought up things he had never considered. 

Dedue patted his shoulder, “I didn't mean to give you reason for concern, Your Majesty.”

“No, no. I’m not concerned, I just… It never occured to me. Before Byleth, I had never romantically or ah,  _ physically _ desired someone in earnest.”

“Hm. Well, perhaps you are simply attracted to Byleth himself, and that is all. It does not need to be more complicated than that.”

Dimitri pulled at a fresh sheet of parchment, “I… Suppose you are right.”

Dedue chuckled, “Leave it be for now, let us spar, Dimitri. You are tense.”

“Yes, I am. Thank you Dedue, let us do just that.”

Sparring helped quiet the voices, but not his worry.

He adjusted his grip on the lance across his lap, and ran the cloth along the staff. Dimitri was sweaty, and felt as though he reeked, yet, he could only focus on cleaning his lance. It wasn't dirty, yet beneath it’s hidden shine, blood and dirt had soaked into the glowing weapon. He knew it had.

Dimitri had to make sure it was clean. Free of the evils it had been forced to do under his hand.

He continued to rub at the seemingly clean bone-like metal for some time, until a heavy weight on his shoulder snapped him to reality, “It is clean enough, Your Majesty. Let us bathe, and you need to eat.”

Dimitri turned his head from Dedue, back to his lance. The fingers of the weapon twitched, was it displeased with him? Was it not clean enough? Would it ever truly be clean again? He would scrub his fingers bloody if the weapon would forgive him, if everyone would forgive him.

“ _ Dimitri. _ ”

“Right, right. Sorry, give me a moment to regain myself.”

Dedue did not leave his side and Dimitri counted to twenty. He found focusing on a very simple, very clear, goal helped him work through moments like this. Bernedetta taught it to him, said it helped her when she suffered from panic attacks. 

Dimitri wasn't sure if this was a panic attack, but regardless, it helped him feel real again. 

He stood and stored Areadbhar in it’s rightful place, far from the eyes of others, but easy for him to find and grab if the need arose. 

He and Dedue bathed, and ate, and Dimitri returned to his quarters. He wrote his apologies and uninterest in Lady Eva, and wrote to a duke that  _ yes, _ he would need to refinance if being sure his servants were paid properly was a problem. 

_ Greedy bastard. _

Dimitri was caught off guard by his own thought. He ran a hand through his hair, took in a breath, and let it out. He was on edge, yet couldn't quite figure out why. Perhaps he had not been sleeping enough? 

Yes, that had to be it. 

He retired early that night, and would look over the papers he wrote the next morning, he needed to make sure none of his irritation could be read in his words.

Another week passed without a word on Byleth’s state. 

Dimitri knew it could be a while, Seteth told him blatantly. Were they at that village he and Flayn had spoken of? Perhaps that was where Lady Rhea disappeared, after they had saved her.

Were they somewhere far from Foldan, where he would never hope to reach them?

Even when apart from Byleth by duty, he could rest easy knowing where he was, knowing more or less what he was doing. He would receive occasional updates from those that lived within the monastery, or from Byleth himself. Not exactly casual letters, and certainly far from his attempt at a love letter, but… It was word from him nonetheless.

Dimitri did not like this, he did not like it one bit. 

Would it be like this  _ every _ time Byleth left?

Dimitri rubbed the sides of his head, he could feel another migraine coming on. He would write Mercedes to send him more of those herbs she had before, they had helped quite a lot when the head pain grew too much to bare.

The ‘bandits’ Ingrid worried about had disappeared, vanished as if they dissolved into air. One moment they were there, they next, they were not. 

There was the possibility of them being warped, yet, the amount of strength a single mage or two would have to move such a large group would be impossible. That led to the conclusion that there were several powerful mages with them, ones powerful enough to move people great distances. 

That alone was damn concerning.

Ingrid had her people scouting for them, but Dimitri would not be surprised if they came up empty handed. They likely caught on they were being tailed and would lay low for some time before they moved again.

Dimitri prayed they were simple travelers, and nothing more. He could not stomach dealing with another war. He still hadn't recovered from the previous one. Probably never would, in truth.

Sylvain and Felix would be spending the next couple of nights in the castle as well, under the guise of keeping him company, but he had seen the way their eyes lingered on him. Seen the way Dedue always stationed himself where he could see Dimitri. They were worried about him, and knowing that warmed his heart.

He  _ hoped _ they were worried, at least. 

The other possibility was they were frightened he would fly off the handle again, become a feral monster again in the absence of Byleth. As if his entire being rested on whether or not Byleth was around.

In a way, it often felt as if that were the case. 

It was not healthy. He needed to find other ways to soothe and process stress without Byleth. The man could not be by his side constantly, even if it was what Dimitri longed for. They both were grown men, grown men in positions of great authority no less.

His friends cared about him, he reminded himself, they were worried because he was worried. He  _ knew _ that was the case, yet… Convincing his heart to know that too was difficult. 

Time marched forward, a month passed.

No word.

Two months.

Nothing.

Dimitri buried himself in work.

Had it not been for those around him forcing him to eat and sleep, Dimitri would not know how many days had passed. Everything blurred together. 

Get up, train, paperwork, eat, entertain guests of the castle, quell worries from his people, more paperwork, eat, more guests, paperwork, sleep. Repeated each day.

Mercedes delivered the herbs he had written to her about in person, even brought others for him to try, some that might make him less groggy, or some that would help him sleep better through the night. He had been so thankful, he actually cried. 

She rubbed his back through his momentary breakdown, he was so overwhelmed. So lost. So consumed with worry.

Byleth had been all but limp when Seteth and Flayn left with him, he was so pale. Had he even been breathing? Was he still alive?

Felix sparred with him. It helped not having to worry about breaking another training dummy, and maybe getting kicked around by his friend helped him realize just how distracted he truly was. If Felix could pummel him so easily, was Dimitri giving his people the proper attention they deserved?

Ingrid kept him up to date on news outside of his city. She constantly ran him letters, and would tell him all about things she saw on her travels. Lorenz had written him about something Hilda’s brother did that infuriated him. Holdst must have burped in his presence or something, still, even with the overly wordy letter, there was an underlying concern there that touched him. 

Lorenz was creating drama for Dimitri to be entertained with. It was stupid, but, it was such a Lorenz thing to do. He appreciated the effort.

Sylvain kept him woefully informed on the gossip between the different houses. House Arkidi’s first son had gotten hitched to a crestless girl from the former Imperial territory, and had fled south to join her merchant family. The whole house of Arkidi was up in tears over it. Despite them having  _ two _ other children that bore crests. 

Ashe showed him plans for the restaurant he was building with his siblings. His eyes lit up in absolute joy as he explained what the cuisine would be, and even cooked him a few dishes.

Dimitri could not taste them, but they smelled amazing, he made sure Ashe knew he was doing fantastically. Dedue’s lip wobbled a little when he said he wanted to cook dishes from Duscur. Ashe scurried off to the kitchen, and Dimitri patted his friend’s arm, then nodded after him. 

Dedue flushed, but stood and followed the man. 

When they did not return, Dimitri gathered the dishes and cleaned them in the newly empty kitchen before he tucked in for the night.

Annette practiced her magic around him. He didn't say much, but listening to her babble and explain what she was doing was nice, and filled the silence he would have otherwise sat in alone. He worked better with company, he found. 

Dorothea and Caspar wrote him with updates about the palace and construction in general. Caspar often would end up getting distracted in his own letter and start talking about the most insignificant things. He saw an ant carry a leaf bigger than it was, he wanted to be that strong.

Dorothea would write more professional letters, but they too would fall into drabble after a couple paragraphs. Petra had come to visit her, and brought her a necklace, it was a betrothal gift for people of Brigid. She was so excited, and couldn't wait to plan the wedding. He of course, would be invited, and if he did not show up she would leave the altar to drag his ass down.

Dimitri laughed.

He took to writing from the dining table, people would flutter around him, doing their usual dos. The background noise helped him focus. They never spoke to him, unless it was a close friend that passed by, but it was fine. He wasn't alone, and that helped.

Ignatz sent him letters too, though they often didn't have much to say, he would create the most magnificent pictures on them. He saved every letter a friend sent him, he rarely had the opportunity to write them back; he had to prioritize his subjects over his friends, as much as he disliked to. 

They all were neatly kept in the bottom drawer of the desk in Dimitri’s room. When he woke from nightmares, or felt himself begin to spiral, he would take the papers out and read them. 

He wasn't alone, people were there for him. They cared about him.

It helped.

A third month passed.

Dimitri retired early for the night, on the cusp of the fourth month without any word of Byleth. Dedue had assured him that no, the kingdom would not collapse if he took a night off to relax. Especially since he was struck with another migraine. The herbs helped enormously, but still took time to actually kick in.

It would be easier to focus on sleep, had voices not been squabbling just outside his door for five minutes now.

“Oh ho, no you will not!” Ingrid at least was trying to be quiet, “I flew the journey straight through, I’ll be damned if I don't get the satisfaction of delivering it in full.”

“Give it here, we do not know how the boar will react,” Felix, however, was not even attempting to keep his voice low, “Are you prepared to be crushed?”

“I am a warrior you soggy cat, I can handle it just fine.”

“ _ Soggy cat? _ ” Felix sputtered, surprised and infuriated. 

When Dimitri turned his head to glance out the window, he saw it was indeed raining. The warmer seasons brought a lot of rain, even in his usually quite snowy land.

“I am his advisor, the duty should fall to me and me alone,” Even  _ Dedue _ had joined on the stupid bickering. 

He was beginning to grow tired of their tomfoolery.

“I didn't see you flying here in the middle of a storm!”

“Yes, because  _ I _ have more sense than that.”

Ingrid gasped, followed by a grunt from Dedue. She probably whacked him with the butt of her lace or something.

“Come now, since you all are fighting, perhaps we should just let the charming one deliver it?” Sylvain purred, Dimitri could almost picture the way he was trying to keep them from actually starting a fight in the hall.

“Hm, perhaps you are right Sylvain,” Ingrid hummed, then added, “Too bad Mercedes or Annette aren't here!”

“Ouch.”

They continued to bicker, Dimitri was  _ so _ close to taking a page out of his Beloved's book and throwing a knife at the door. 

However, it opened, and closed. The bickering still continued, oddly enough. Dimitri sat up and massaged the bridge of his nose, surprised to see none other than Ashe standing at the foot of his bed. Oddly, he didn't seem sheepish or apologetic at all, in fact, he seemed… Excited.

Dimitri swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, Ashe handed him a scroll.

Odd. There was no sender, no recipient.

He carefully untied the seal and unfurled the paper, the words there caused his heart to jump into his throat.

_ ‘I have returned.’ _

Dimitri didn't need to know who sent it, he recognized the lettering alone. 

Byleth was back. 

He was back, he was  _ alive! _

Joy blossomed in his chest as a flower did in spring. He couldn't contain his excitement, he flung open the door, revealing Ingrid and Felix mere moments away from a fistfight. They paused and looked at him, confusion on their faces.

“Byleth is back! Dedue, pack at once, we leave as soon as we are able.”

Ingrid shoved Felix away from her, “How- I have…. Where's the letter!?”

Ashe must have made his presence known behind him, as Ingrid’s face flushed with rage, “Oh you little- I am going to throttle you, Ashe!”

Dedue lifted her up under her arms, and held her a good foot from the ground as she sputtered and hissed. Ashe sounded like he was going to die from laughing so hard, Dimitri couldn't help but giggle a bit himself. He was so, so very happy. 

* * *

They departed for Garreg Mach the next morning. 

Because traveling during a storm was bad for his health, apparently. Still, he trusted Dedue’s judgement, and willed himself to at least sleep a little before they left.

He didn't, but he had tried.

Frankly, Dedue was the only thing keeping him from making the journey on horseback in one trip. 

“Just because Ingrid foolishly did, does not mean I will allow you to follow her example, Your Majesty.”

Dimitri relented, but still couldn't wait. His whole body buzzed, as if his very being longed for Byleth’s presence. Longed to see the man for himself, to see he had recovered, to see him healthy again.

They reached the Monastery in three days. 

Word must have been sent ahead, as the moment he crossed the drawbridge into the market, he was met with a sight that filled him with immeasurable relief. Byleth stood on top of the stairs, he was dressed in his usual black attire, skin warm and pink. No bags were under his eyes, he looked… Healthy.

Dimitri would never deny not being the most graceful of men, but the way he all but fell from Juniper Axe’s back was wholly unflattering of a king. Still, it was copper in the gold of Byleth’s presence.

He did  _ not _ run to the stairs, but he definitely took long strides, and Byleth trotted down the stairs to meet him halfway. 

He was there, right in front of him. He was alive, healthy as far as Dimitri could tell, and he was smiling. The little smile he only did when genuinely happy, one Dimitri would have torn the sky asunder for, time and time again if he could see it just once a day.

Dimitri froze when they at last reached each other. He didn't know why, he was so overwhelmed with emotions it was as if he had forgotten how to speak, how to move. Byleth’s hand was comfortably warm when it reached for his own, their fingers intertwined. The searing heat had disappeared.

“Dimitri, hello.”

His simple, familiar words broke Dimitri’s trance, and he pulled the man close to him with a swing of his arms. He peppered small, gentle, kisses all over his face. The man in his embrace laughed, actually laughed, and Dimitri had to pull back to see the way his eyes scrunched at the edges when he smiled wholeheartedly. 

He was  _ so _ stupidly in love with Byleth.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Dimitri murmured into the crook of Byleth’s neck, he smelled of pine, smoke, and home.

“As have I.”

He felt the movement of his cape as Byleth rubbed soothing circles in his back. Dimitri wished he could feel them properly, without his armor in the way, but knowing the man was doing something so gentle soothed him just the same.

Dimitri pulled back when a throat cleared.

He looked up to find Seteth, Flayn and… And Lady Rhea, all standing upon the stairs as well. Had they been there the whole time?

Dimitri awkwardly untangled himself from Byleth, and bowed to the three, “Welcome back, I am most pleased to see you all unharmed and in good health.”

Lady Rhea covered a laugh with her hand, “Oh come now, no need to be so formal. You are family. Come, let us get you all settled in yes?”

“Ah. Yes,” Dimitri stumbled out, “I… Thank you for bringing Byleth back safely.”

Seteth snorted, “He was never in any danger.”

* * *

When everything had settled, Seteth all but pushed the two of them to the third floor so they could be alone together. Dimitri was far from complaining.

Byleth was still staying in the room he had been since he had taken over as Archbishop. He wondered where Lady Rhea stayed now, was she in the rooms where Seteth and Flayn slept now? Somewhere else entirely? He hardly had a chance to speak to her, and welcome her back from wherever she had disappeared to after they had rescued her.

Perhaps she slept too, as Byleth did when he fell from that cliff. 

The door closed behind him, and Dimitri let out a grunt when he was pushed back against it, and Byleth pressed his lips to his own. Dimitri hummed and wrapped his arms around his Beloved’s waist, warmth settled in his belly as their kiss deepened. His fingers trailed down to his hips, Dimitri hooked his hands beneath Byleth’s thighs and lifted him.

Byleth’s kisses stopped, he glanced down between them, then at the floor no longer beneath his feet. Dimitri hesitated, had he gone too far? 

“Does this make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” Byleth responded, “It is odd, though. You pick me up as if I weigh nothing.”

Dimitri shugged, “Even without the Blaiddyd strength, I could still lift you. You are not heavy.”

“Hm, perhaps Seteth grows weak in his old age.”

The sputtering laugh that escaped Dimitri was ugly and loud, but the way Byleth looked at him, as if he had brought the stars and delivered them to him directly, he didn't feel ashamed. He noticed then, a bit belatedly, that he could see Byleth’s ears peeking out from his light hair.

They were pointed, like the people in the book.

“Where did you go? Seteth had been vague when he took you.”

Byleth stretched and settled himself against Dimitri’s chest, laying upon him as a cat basking up sunlight.

“A forest somewhere, I don't really know where. We met Rhea there after a few days. She came from a village, but I couldn't go there yet. Too dangerous.”

Dimiri leaned back against the door, and adjusted his hold on Byleth, so it was something more akin to an embrace.

“Sothis and I are one, now, sort of. My… Heart still doesn't beat. I do not know why.”

It mattered little to Dimitri, in truth. Even if his Beloved’s heart never beat, he would love him as he did now. He pressed a kiss to his cheek, and hoped the gesture was reassuring.

“What happened?”

“I became a dragon,” Byleth spoke such words as if he were discussing tea or what he ate. 

We had some venison, took a stroll through a forest... _ I became a dragon. _

Yeah, fine, simple enough.

Dimitri didn't let his grip falter on Byleth despite his shock. Sure Flayn had mentioned the ‘shift’ but he didn't really process it. Not until now, spoken so casually.

“A dragon,  _ right. _ ”

Byleth chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that soothed his fear.

“What do you know of Nabeteans?”

Dimitri did not feel as if he were ready for this, certainly not while holding Byleth. He really didn't want to drop or hurt the man if he startled from the knowledge he undoubtedly would be receiving. So, he eased Byleth back onto the floor, and sat on the foot of the bed.

“Nothing, frankly. I remember vaguely hearing about them, but they were spoken as if they were some mythical race that never existed.”

Byleth pursed his lips, and Dimitri could not tell if he was thinking, or irritated Dimitri had put him down. Regardless, he sat beside Dimitri, and stared at the ground.

“Nabeteans were a race of dragons, that could take human form. The first Nabeteans were Sothis, and the saints.”

Dimitri nodded.

“I… Do not have all the details, Seteth and Rhea have been arguing off and on for the last few nights. However, I do know that I am, at least in part, one of them. As are they. That is why Seteth and Flayn do not age as humans do, neither does Rhea.”

“Neither will you,” Dimitri murmured. 

Byleth tensed beside him, he grabbed the man’s hand before he had any ideas, and squeezed it gently, “Do not fret, Seteth told me everything. Or, at least a lot. It does not matter to me if you never age in my lifetime, having you beside me is more than enough.”

The man nodded, his shoulders relaxed, and continued, “A war happened, and a human, or, a group of humans, slaughtered them. Very few still live, that is why Seteth and Flayn must keep the truth of what they are secret. If their identities were revealed, there is a chance that those people would try to finish what was started.”

Dimitri’s grip on Byleth tightened. He would not allow anyone to touch a hair on Byleth’s, or any one else’s head. He would protect them with all he had.

“Crest stones are the hearts of the Nabeteans slain then.”

Oh.

“Hero relic’s are crafted from their bodies.”

_ Oh. _

Dimitri felt sick. This whole time, he had been brandishing Areadbhar as just some weapon, the way it twitched occasionally, the way the stone shone in tune to his emotions… He was using a being, or what once was a living being, as a weapon. 

He had desecrated the dead’s body by using it for such heinous crimes.

Dimitri covered his mouth, he… He was going to be sick.

Byleth pulled him close, and pulled his head to rest upon his shoulder. The metal of his armor was uncomfortable, but knowing it belonged to Byleth allowed him to breathe and count. 

“The Sword of the Creator…?”

“Sothis’, or well,  _ my _ spine.”

Dimitri eyed the weapon where it sat upon Byleth’s desk, then closed his eye to rest fully against his Beloved’s shoulder. Warm fingers came and rubbed at his skull. The fingers were the same, yet, different in a way Dimitri could not ascertain. They seemed sharper, as if ended in talons, no longer simple nails.

Byleth was a dragon.

A being of immense strength, creatures that were spoken of only in the highest regard and honour. Messengers of the Goddess herself. Beasts that could crack open the sky and earth alike, and reshape it with their breath.

Dimitri realized then, he would  _ have _ to hunt a moose for his Beloved.

No other animal could possibly be worthy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heck yeah for chapter 9! 
> 
> About dang time Dimitri figured it out (was told).   
> But hey, he knows what animal to hunt for his beloved now.
> 
> And as usual! Thank you all so much for the support, it really makes my day reading how you enjoy the story so far!
> 
> Then, of course, here is my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/vulturepops) and [Tumblr](https://disastergays.tumblr.com/) if you want to come chat or somethin!


	10. Warmth and Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He ripped open a hole in the sky and his hair magically changed color,” Dimitri defended, his cheeks flushed, “Are you really that surprised something else changed too?”
> 
> “No,” Sylvain hummed, “But how defensive you are over it is _damn_ interesting.”
> 
> Ah. Shit.
> 
> *Note, the later half of this chapter is explicit*

“Byleth pleaaase, just one bite.”

“No.”

Flayn pouted, and rested her chin on the dining table. No one other than cooks and the odd monk or mage were in the room, it was late, and most of the dinner rush had left already to tend to their nightly duties.

Dimitri felt wildly out of place among the _dragon people_ surrounding him.

In a flash, Flayn brandished her fork as a weapon, and dove across the table, eager to take the last bite of fish from Byleth’s plate. She was met with a spoon, blocking her futile attempt. Her eyes narrowed, and the two stared each other down.

“Children, _behave,_ ” Seteth massaged his temples, “Flayn, you can get a second helping from the cook.”

She huffed, but retreated back to sit on her seat properly. 

Byleth had yet to finish the fish, instead poking around the vegetables that accompanied the meat, and Dimitri got the sneaking suspicion he was teasing her. 

Lady Rhea took pity on Flayn, and slid half of her meal onto her plate, “Here, you can finish mine.”

“Thank you!” Flayn chirped, and dove into the fish like a woman possessed.

It was odd.

Sitting around them felt familiar, in the strangest way. He remembered dining with his childhood friends far before the war, or the Tragedy of Duscur. They would tease each other and laugh and occasionally be scolded by a parent when the ribbing went too far.

Dimitri was part of a family again, and… He wasn't sure how to process it.

A gentle tap on his arm drew his attention to Byleth, he held the fork with the last bit of fish up to him. 

“Eat.”

Dimitri snorted, but allowed Byleth to feed him the rest of his fish, much to Flayn’s horror.

“You weren't even going to finish it!” She gasped, and smacked her palms on the table, “You are so mean!”

Byleth did not respond, only stared at her in complete silence as he took his now empty fork from Dimitri’s mouth. Though he could have sworn there was a ghost of a smug grin on his face. 

The last day and a half had been an absolute nightmare of information. Dimitri had grown nearly numb to it all by now, Seteth was Flayn’s father, Rhea was Seteth’s sister, they all were the saints that people worshipped, and of course, were dragons. 

Dimitri’s head pounded as he tried to process the information.

Dimitri wasn't sure why he was told all that, it hardly seemed necessary. Certainly did not pertain to Byleth much, other than he and Flayn being cousins, and Seteth and Rhea being his uncle and grandmother respectively. Sort of. There were some complications with Byleth’s relationship to Rhea, ones he had not been told of yet. 

He did not know if he would ever be told, but it mattered little really.

Perhaps they tossed the information at him because they had lived in secrecy for so long. Someone could be told, they could trust someone again. Dimitri could not imagine what it must have been like, to hide themselves as if their very natures were a dirty secret. To pray no one would find out, that no one would desecrate their bodies as what had happened to others of their kind.

He wondered what disgusting ritual would have had to have been performed to create such powerful weapons. He also did not want to know.

Did Rhea look upon the holy relics in disdain and disgust? Or did she truely revere them, as the church did? They _were_ the last remains of some of her people.

Dimitri was thankful for their trust all the same, but also wished he had remained ignorant, in a way. He could no longer look at his lance in anything other than overwhelming guilt and sorrow. It had been vile, to use the weapon as he did. Unforgivable, really.

He wondered if the lance still held some form of consciousness.

Dimitri prayed it didn't.

When alone, truly alone with him. They acted so differently than he had grown to see them. 

Rhea was cheeky, and teased her brother over the smallest of things. Seteth was a doting father to Flayn, if not a bit overbearing, and often argued with Rhea over seemingly anything. 

Flayn… Acted the same, much to Dimitri’s relief.

Yet, the moment someone else entered the equation, their masks were on, and they were professional as ever. 

It was giving Dimitri whiplash.

Despite the power Byleth had, and the newly pointed ears, he remained just as he ever had. Dimitri clung to that, as he desperately processed and tried to come to terms with all the information dumped upon his shoulders. 

And the weight such words carried.

He could not remain in the Monastery forever, he had to return to his people eventually.

Dimitri had given himself three days before he needed to return. To his absolute delight, Byleth asked if he could accompany him back. 

“Oh I know pretty Lady,” Sylvain cooed, “You’ve been running around so much for me. Don't worry sweet thing, I’ll be sure to pamper you as you deserve when we get back.”

The black mare thumped her head against Sylvain's side, likely looking for another treat. He produced some oats from a leather satchel he had tied around his waist. She snorted and eagerly ate the food from Sylavin’s glove.

“I think he loves that horse more than he does me,” Felix scoffed from his place beside Dimitri, holding saddlebags as Dimitri adjusted the straps of Juniper Axe’s saddle.

“Sorry Felix, my heart only belongs to Lady,” He responded and pressed a kiss between the mare’s eyes. 

“And here I thought we had something special,” Felix drawled in response, then handed over the bags when Dimitri grabbed them. 

Dimitri chuckled, and tossed the leather pouches over Juniper Axe’s back, once they were secure, he stepped back and patted his own horse’s neck. Juniper Axe dug his hoof into the ground and snorted, Dimirti wasn't sure if that was a good reaction or not. Still, the gelding lowered his head and sniffed at Dimitri’s palms.

“I don't have a carrot,” Dimitri apologized, Juniper Axe snorted again and lifted his head at the approach of Byleth and Dagur.

Dagur had her head hunkered down, and marched like a wyvern on a mission. As they approached, her steps slowed, and she maintained a healthy distance from Felix and Sylvain. Not aggressive, as far as Dimitri could tell, but certainly wary.

Byleth held no such regard as he approached them and butted his head against Dimitri’s arm in a familiar greeting. 

“How come you don't headbutt me when _you_ see me, Felix?”

“I don't love you like that.”

Sylvain laughed, and hopped upon Lady’s back, and held his arm out for Felix to pull himself up behind him on the horse. When the man was settled, Sylvain turned his head just enough to plant a needlessly loud, wet, kiss to Felix’s cheek. 

He sputtered and shoved Sylvain away, “Gross!”

Dimitri chuckled and mounted his own steed as they waited for Dedue. He had been gathering things they’d need for their journey back. When he returned, they finished packing up and left Garreg Mach’s walls. 

It had been far too long since he had the time to just… Be around his friends. They were in no real rush to return, their pace idle and relaxed. He had missed them, missed _this._

Byleth flew ahead to scout for a safe place for them to set up camp when Felix spoke, “So, is _no one_ going to mention the ears?”

Dimitri coughed into his fist, “Um, what ears?”

Dedue, Sylvain and Felix all leveled him with the same unimpressed stare. 

“He ripped open a hole in the sky and his hair magically changed color,” Dimitri defended, his cheeks flushed, “Are you really that surprised something else changed too?”

“No,” Sylvain hummed, “But how defensive you are over it is _damn_ interesting.”

Ah. Shit.

“So there is a reason, and you _know_ it,” Felix pressed, his eyes narrowed at him in a familiar threat, “You better not be keeping fucking secrets, boar.”

Dedue rode his horse between Felix’s harsh gaze and Dimitri, “Enough. If his Majesty is keeping secrets, they are surely for a good reason.”

Felix snarled, his tone lowered into one Dimitri recognized as genuine anger, “He's not the only one that cares about Byleth. If something is wrong, we deserve to know! Between this, suddenly leaving Enbarr, and just… Vanishing for nearly _four_ months! I am not stupid, none of us are!”

Dimitri could see the way Dedue faltered at that, and honestly, Felix wasn't wrong. It would be foolish not to be concerned for Byleth, after everything that happened. He knew most of what was happening, and he _still_ worried for him.

“You are right, Felix.”

Dedue pulled his horse back enough that Dimitri could meet Felix’s irritated gaze.

“There… Is a lot about him that I am only just learning. However, please trust me in that I would not be keeping silent if I did not have to. If… If knowledge about him gets out, it would put lives at risk and I - I do not want to be responsible for any more heinous violence.”

Felix stared at him, then, after a moment of scrutiny, relaxed against Sylvain, “I believe you. But if there comes a time when his life is in danger, you better not keep us in the dark.”

Dimitri nodded firmly, that, he could agree on. 

Dagur trilled as she and Byleth returned, they landed and Byleth gestured toward a valley, “I found a safe clearing, this way.”

They followed after him loyally, as they always have, and always would.

With the fire set up, and furs laid out to sleep upon, Dimitri allowed himself to sit, relax, and watch Byleth.

It was fascinating, the new ears. They moved, _actually_ moved. They’d rise when he heard something, or was pleased, and lowered when he grew irritated. Dimitri wondered if Byleth himself was aware how blatantly they displayed his emotions. An ear would swivel ever so slightly when he heard a noise at the edge of camp, or if one them strayed too far from the fire.

He was absolutely enamoured, as were his friends, it seemed.

Sylvain, being who he is, made the most obvious attempts at getting the ears to move. He’d creep to the edge of camp, and the three of them would watch in awe as the ear followed him, even when not looking at them, Byleth seemed to always be watching out for them.

He couldn't help but be flattered, that whenever he spoke, Byleth’s ears would twitch up. Just a little, but it was noticeable and warmed his heart.

Dimitri wondered, then, since Byleth was related to Seteth and Flayn, why their ears were not pointed. Or were they? He had never seen their ears, now that he considered it. Except on the night he had brought Byleth to them, and Flayn’s hair was braided back.

Yet in his panic, he did not take note of whether or not her ears were like Byleth’s.

Perhap he could ask the next time he saw her.

There was a shout, followed shortly by a yelp and a thunk. Byleth had not moved from his place beside the fire, so Dimitri did not worry, though did look over their camp to find the source.

Felix was standing with his boot in his hand, and Sylvain was more or less in fetal position, laughing. Ah, Sylvain did something crass again, probably. He scooted a bit closer to Byleth’s side, his ear swiveled, then perked when he turned his head to face him.

“We should probably get some sleep,” He urged. Byleth closed his eyes and hummed, then rested his head on Dimitri’s shoulder.

He chuckled, “No on _me,_ at least, not while sitting up. Not good for either of our backs.”

Byleth lifted his head for Dimitri to move, then followed after him as he retreated to his sleeping spot for the night. When he laid down, Byleth all but collapsed beside him, and rested his cheek over Dimitri’s heart. He did not wear his armor, it had been packed away, though through the thick leather of his vest, and the shirt beneath, he wondered if Byleth could still hear it hammer against his ribs.

“If I hear moaning tonight I’m slitting your throat, Boar.”

Dimitri sputtered, “ _Felix!_ I would never- N-Not _here-_ ”

Sylvain’s laughter cut him off, and he realized, a bit belatedly, he was being teased. He frowned and shot a glare over Byleth’s head to the two men chuckling to each other. Felix raised a choice finger in response, and Dimitri let his head thump back against the fur with a roll of his eye.

Dimitri had considered pulling a blanket up and over he and Byleth, but frankly, between the warmth from the fire, and the comforting heat Byleth exuded, he found himself quite content without one. 

Instead, he took to gazing at the stars. 

They were beautiful, a crescent moon shone above them. Dimitri remembered his father taught him about the stars, when he was young. He had found it terribly boring at the time, and only listened to the sound of his voice to fall asleep, rather than the words he spoke.

Dimitri wished he had paid better attention now.

He knew roughly, of constellations. Knew some stars could be strung together to form a shape, and that shape would have a story. Yet, anything past that, he did not know. Perhaps he could see if his castle’s library had anything on astrology. He’d like to learn at least some of the constellations his father had told him of, when he was a mere child.

Dedue knocked some of the logs from their fire over, dimming the flames to a gentle glow. 

A hush settled over the group as they tucked in to sleep for the night. Byleth nudged him onto his side, and wrapped his arms around his ribs, burying his face into the back of his neck. He could feel each breath he took against his back, slow and even. Dimitri interlaced their fingers, and lulled himself to sleep counting Byleth’s steady inhales and exhales.

* * *

Fhirdiad was a beautiful city.

Even blanketed in mist from the recent rains, the stone buildings stood strong against the sky. Those that lived there were a hardy bunch, used to the harsh climate of the mountains, yet, he knew luxuries were bountiful, hidden behind the stone and wood. 

It didn't have the same attention to architectural detail that Enbarr did, their buildings were built to withstand the harsh winters of Faerghus. Still, there was something Dimitri found lovely in their strong simplicity.

Within the next month or so, warmth would leave the region, and blanket it in snow and ice once more. People enjoyed the rainy seasons while they could.

Byleth slid from Dagur’s back, and held the reigns near her mouth, keeping her head down and beside his shoulder. Perhaps he would have a second wyvern stable further toward the edge of the city, so traveling through the heart of it wouldn't be such a hassle for those with more touchy wyverns.

People flooded the streets as they walked, celebrating his return, as usual. He ducked his head, still quite unused to being cherished so. He liked it, of course, but it could be overwhelming. 

Dagur snorted, smoke billowed from her nostrils, but she made no aggressive movements. Dimitri trusted Byleth as he trusted Dagur, neither were fond of the attention, but he knew they’d never lash out and hurt someone. Plus, people kept a respectful distance from him, as their King, and Dimitri hoped that helped.

Some advisors met him on the stairs that led up to his castle’s gates, Byleth had already vanished, likely settling Dagur down in the stables. 

A gangly man, Ivan, stepped to meet him as a stablehand took Juniper Axe once he dismounted him.

“Ah, you’ve returned. Welcome back, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you, Ivan. Has there been any news while I was gone?”

“Nothing pressing, Sire, though you have received more letters regarding the reconstruction of… _Duscur._ ”

Dimitri hated the way the man sneered the word, as if even speaking of the land in itself were a curse. He leveled the man with a cold stare, “Good, I will see to it that I write back as soon as I am able.”

“Your Majesty, if I may-”

“You may _not,_ ” Dimitri stepped past him, Dedue on his heels, “I have told you the people of Duscur were innocent, helping them rebuild is the _least_ we can do to make amends.”

The man bowed, and that was that. It was not the end of his uphill struggle to get his people to help the reconstruction of Duscur, but it was laid to rest for now. Dedue had been in contact with survivors of the slaughter, and they were cautiously willing to allow him to help. 

However, who he sent to assist them would have to be chosen very, very carefully. He could not send people who did not believe Duscur was undeserving of their help. However, people were stubborn, and even in the face of the truth, many still clung to the beliefs they had before. 

It was a pain in the ass.

He wondered if the construction company in Enbarr could afford to send some of their people north, to assist Duscur. He’d write Caspar about it later, for now, he would wait for his friends to catch up.

Sylvain and Felix arrived in the throne room Dimitri had retreated to, it was a bit faster than he had expected, usually Lady took a bit longer to settle than that.

“You two are more than welcome to stay for dinner,” Dimitri offered, but Sylvain held up a hand and shook his head.

“‘Fraid not, can't today. We have to return to our lands, it's been a while since we’ve been there. I’ve got my own marriage proposals to deny, or, ignore,” Sylvain snorted, “You’d think people would get the hint.”

He understood Sylvain’s irritation, he shared it himself, and nodded.

He wondered if Felix received them from time to time, if he did, he never spoke of them. Felix was among the last of his line, he wondered what he would do. Dimitri found himself with the same pondry, he was the last holder of the Blaiddyd crest, would the line die with him?

He certainly had no desire to bed some woman for the off chance of her producing a child with a crest, much less bedding anyone than Byleth, period.

Perhaps he could find another way to choose an heir? One that did not rely on crests?

Dimitri decided it was a topic to consider another time, instead, he bid his friends farewell, and waited for his Beloved to return.

Just as Dimitri considered leaving the room to search for him, Byleth appeared. He seemed irritated, given the way his lips pressed together to form a thin line. What had happened?

He closed the distance between them and patted his shoulder, “Everything well?”

“Your stable hands are foolish,” He stated, “Or perhaps the one that approached me was unfamiliar with wyverns.”

Dimitri tilted his head, “We rarely get Wyverns here, they do not seem to favor the cold much.”

Byleth hummed, and seemed to take that as a good enough response, given he said no more on the matter. Silence settled between them, and Dedue ushered them from the throne room, “Come, let us eat.”

Dimitri did not realize how hungry he was until then. Traveling rations were fine and all, most food tasted the same to him anyway, but he found meals at the castle filled him up far better than bread and jerky.

Byleth’s steps lengthened as they approached the dining hall, Dimitri chuckled, he supposed he was not the only one hungry.

* * *

With dinner finished, and their bellies full, Dedue walked them back to Dimitri’s room.

“Professor,” Dedue’s voice broke the silence, “The ears are new.”

The _ears_ twitched at their mention, and Byleth nodded, “They are.”

“Where did they come from?”

Dimitri was starting to panic.

“I am a dragon, this is normal among my kind, I guess.”

Dimitri was _absolutely_ panicking. Byleth couldn't say that, he couldn't just announce what he was! What if someone overheard? Dimitri trusted Dedue with his life, hell, he trusted him with _Byleth’s_ life, but what if there were others that could hear? What if learning of Byleth’s nature put Dedue in danger?

Dedue laughed, “Ah, I see.”

Relief washed over Dimitri like a wave, of course. _Of course_ it would sound ridiculous to anyone, even Dedue, that Byleth was a dragon. 

Still, a part of him was sad Dedue did not believe Byleth. Someone to confide in, another party to talk to, to express his worries to, would have been nice. Still, he would rather have Dedue not believe him, than put either of their lives in danger.

Byleth did not seem bothered that Dedue had brushed him off. Perhaps he had been expecting that reaction?

“Can you fly?” Dedue inquired, as they started their climb up the stairs.

“Yes. Poorly right now, but yes.”

Wait.

Dimitri’s heart began to thunder in his chest, did Dedue believe him after all? How could he seem so unbothered by such an astounding truth? Even Dimitri did not take all that was happening to Byleth as easily as Dedue did.

“Hm, so you have wings, in your other form?”

“Yes, four,” Byleth responded, “it is quite difficult to learn how to use so many new limbs at once.”

Dedue nodded solemnly, as if he understood first hand what it was like.

The man glanced over his shoulder at Dimitri, and raised a brow. He wondered if his panic was showing on his face.

“I will not speak a word of this to anyone, Dimitri,” His voice held a level of hurt that stabbed Dimitri in the chest.

“No, no. That is not it, Dedue,” He was quick to assure, “I just… You seem so unimpressed. And… I worry others could hear.”

“No one else is nearby,” Byleth stated, Dimitri supposed those ears were more than just for show.

Dedue explained, “There were people further north in my homeland that were… Not unlike Byleth. They had incredible power and could turn into impossible things. My sister had once befriended one of their children.”

A cynical side of Dimitri wondered where they were when Duscur was attacked.

“They were nomadic,” He continued, as if reading Dimitri’s thoughts, “They did not remain in one place long. When they passed through Duscur from time to time, my sister would always meet up with that child. They were good friends. An odd people, but, _people_ all the same.”

Byleth brushed his shoulder against Dedue’s arm. He seemed bewildered by the action, though pleased all the same. Perhaps he understood what Byleth was silently trying to convey, or perhaps he was just happy Byleth trusted him enough with his nature.

So there were other beings that were not human? Were the ones Dedue spoke also Nabeteans? Or were these incredible beings just… Walking among them this whole time? Dimitri wasn't sure he wanted the answer to any of those questions.

Dedue bid them goodnight as they passed Dimitri’s door, and left them to head further down the hall and stairs to where his room was. 

Dimitri opened the door and closed it once he and Byleth were in the room. It was dark, the sun barely seen over the horizon, casting his room in a warm glow. Traveling was exhausting, all the _emotions_ he’s had the last week have been exhausting. 

He was ready to just lay in bed and cuddle his Beloved for the rest of the night, paperwork be damned, he’d do it tomorrow.

Byleth seemed to have a similar plan, as he was already half out of his shirt by the time Dimitri locked the door. He chuckled as Byleth’s head popped free, his light hair disheveled from it’s tussle with the heavy cotton he wore. Dimitri unbuttoned his vest and draped it over the back of his chair, then walked up behind Byleth, waited a moment, then wrapped his arms around the man’s stomach.

He didn't want to startle him again.

Byleth hummed and kissed the side of his head he could reach with Dimitri’s face buried in his neck. He was warm, but not uncomfortably so. Akin to the perfect warmth of a sauna or bath, just hot enough to be comforting, but not to burn.

“Why did you tell Dedue?” Dimitri murmured against his skin.

“Why wouldn't I?” Byleth responded, and tossed his shirt aside, “I trust him, as I trust all of you. Seteth has lived in fear for a very long time, so he is overly cautious. If they ask, I will tell them. If not, I won't.”

Dimitri considered his words, then inquired, “You are not worried about the danger it might cause to your people?”

“You, the rest of the lions, my students, _are_ my people. Not some race of dragons I never knew about until now. I will not recklessly endanger them, but you and my former students are who I’d consider mine.”

It must be hard, Dimitri imagined, to find out you weren't human so suddenly. To learn he was actually part of an ancient race long considered a myth. Dimitri lifted his head to kiss Byleth’s cheek, “Fair enough.”

“It… Doesn't bother you?”

Dimitri pulled back and gently urged Byleth to turn and face him, “What doesn't bother me?”

“That I’m… _This._ ”

“ _You?_ Why would that bother me? I’ve adored you just as you are for years, you know that.”

“No- that I’m… I am not human.”

Ah. 

Dimitri brought his hands up to cradle Byleth’s face, his eyebrows were pinched, eyes trained on the ground rather than meeting his own. He stroked his thumb along his cheek, “Byleth, look at me.”

After a pregnant pause, he did.

“I will tell you what I’ve told Seteth. I do not care who or what you are, to me, you will always be my dearest Byleth. Be it a dragon, a god, or something else entirely, I love _you,_ and all that comes with that. I promise.”

Dimitri could have sworn Byleth’s eyes water before he was pulled down to meet his lips.

His hands moved from Byleth’s face to his waist, thumbs rubbing circles on the soft skin there. The man took a step closer, and Dimitri wasted no time in lifting him again. He leaned back just enough so their chests could touch, and Byleth could lean against him fully.

Dimitri used his knee as support to lower Byleth down onto the blankets of his bed. He kicked off his boots and all but jumped on top of him. His kisses trailed down from his lips to his neck, then collarbone. Byleth’s breath hitched when he reached his chest.

“Byleth,” Dimitri paused, and glanced up at the man prone beneath him, “You alright?”

“Mm.”

“Words.”

Byleth snorted, “Yes, I am fine.”

Dimitri nodded, then, “Tell me if I do something that makes you uncomfortable, or you want to stop, ok?”

“Mhm.”

“Byleth, please.”

“Yes, yes. _Fine,_ I will.”

He froze when a hand moved to his face, fingers brushed against the edge of his eyepatch. Dimitri ducked his head and pulled back, much to Byleth’s visible confusion.

“Does it still hurt?” Byleth asked, his voice soft and… sad.

“Not usually,” He explained, “But… It is hideous.”

Byleth grabbed Dimitri’s hand and placed it on his chest, over the scar that spanned where his heart would have been.

“So is this.”

Dimitri shook his head, “This was not done by your hand, you didn't- You had no control over this.”

“It shows I stole the life of another,” Byleth responded.

“You didn't _steal_ anything, Byleth,” Dimitri snapped, and lowered himself to kiss the gnarled starburst scar, “From my understanding, your mother _chose_ to save you.”

Byleth’s hand moved to his eyepatch again, “This shows you survived the demons plaguing you.”

“I gave in to them, I tried- I _thought_ if I…” 

“You lived.”

Dimitri rested his hand over Byleth’s, he had never taken the eyepatch off in his presence before. Not even when they were in the baths together, he didn't want to frighten or disgust Byleth with the sight of a mangled empty socket.

He pulled back, and untied the leather from the back of his head, and slowly peeled the patch off. His hands trembled as he pulled it off his face, he clung onto it, unsure what to say or how to behave when such fragility coursed through him. Byleth scooted back and sat up, he leaned close and placed a ghost of a kiss over the scar, just beneath the hole his eye once resided in.

“It… doesn't disgust you?”

“No.”

Dimitri rested his hand over the scar on Byleth’s chest, the skin was puckered and rough there. He wondered if the scar ever hurt. 

Byleth tugged at his shirt, and Dimitri was quick to remove it. His body paled in comparison to the hideous socket his eye had once been in. He certainly did not feel comfortable as he was, yet… He knew Byleth would never look down upon him for it. He was far too kind.

Dimitri nudged Byleth back again and kissed him with the fervor of a man possessed. He couldn’t find the words he needed to say, how thankful he was for him, how blessed he felt to have Byleth in his life. Perhaps he could take a page from his Beloved’s book, and show him.

His kisses trailed down to his chest, and pressed the flat of his tongue over Byleth’s nipple. The _softest_ noise escaped Byleth’s mouth, when he looked up, Byleth stared down at him with half-lidded eyes, and a blush dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears. 

He was incredible.

Dimitri’s hands moved down to lift Byleth’s legs just enough for him to move forward and settle himself between his thighs, letting Byleth rest his own upon him. He trailed his kisses further down Byleth’s rib cage, abs, then stomach. When he reached the hem of Byleth’s pants, he stopped. 

His fingers rested on the edge of the fabric, and he looked up to Byleth, who nodded. Dimitri scooted back and slowly pulled the pants from his lover’s body. There was a deep scar along Byleth’s knee, one he did not recall seeing before. Not that he, admittedly, gave himself the luxury of gazing over Byleth’s nude form prior to this.

He traced over the scar, it seemed old, yet the wound that could have caused such a scar had to have been deep.

“Before I met you, my father and I were fighting some thieves. I was still young, and had not yet learned how to use my entire body for fighting. I was about to kill a man, but he used his leg and kicked my knee, shattering it. One of the mercenaries carried me to a village nearby and I had surgery to save my leg.”

Dimitri frowned, looking at the joint now, it seemed… Out of place. Slightly misshapen, as a nose might be after being broken. Healed, but not the same. He then recalled the armor he wore on that leg.

“That's why you wear the plate over your knee.”

“It is weak, so I have extra protection.”

“Does it still pain you?”

“When the weather changes or I do a lot of walking.”

Dimitri’s brow furrowed, “You are _always_ walking and running around.”

“...Yes.”

He sighed and carefully maneuvered the leg up so he could press a kiss to the side of the scar, “You have to stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Putting others before your own wellbeing.”

“I could say the same of you,” Byleth responded, a brow raised.

That was fair.

“We both need to work on that, huh?”

Byleth hummed and nodded.

Dimitri lowered Byleth’s leg to rest on his thigh, and gave himself a chance to actually look at Byleth. He was thin, but with every breath Dimitri could see the tightly corded muscle beneath his skin. It didn't seem his time as Archbishop changed him much, if any.

He wasn't wet as far as he could tell, but Dimitri couldn't blame the man. They would only just start, then get distracted by a more serious matter. Dimitri wondered if his racing mind irritated Byleth, though given the way the man seemed perfectly content to be sprawled beneath him, Dimitri assured himself that was not the case.

They wouldn’t have sex tonight, Dimitri didnt have any oil in his room, and he refused to cause Byleth any sort of discomfort. Still, he… Wanted to be intimate with Byleth, make the man feel good. Dimitri leaned down and pressed his lips against Byleth’s stomach, and peppered kisses down to the hair between his legs.

He took to kissing the inside of Byleth’s thighs, and ran his hands over the muscle in them. They twitched under his fingers, Dimitri wanted to map out every single one of Byleth’s sensitive areas. He wanted to know how to make the man come completely undone.

When he took the skin of Byleth’s inner thigh between his teeth, his breath hitched. Dimitri pressed his tongue over the indentions left behind by his teeth, and checked Byleth’s face for any signs of discomfort.

The man’s eyes were half closed, he had his fist up to his mouth, biting the knuckles, and the normally narrow pupils were blown wide enough that only a thin ring of green could be seen. 

Damn.

Dimiti lifted Byleth’s legs up and over his shoulders, careful of his bad knee, and ran his tongue over Byleth’s labia. His moan was muffled by his hand, and that simply would not do. 

He adjusted his grip on him and pulled the fist from his mouth, “No need to be silent, Beloved. We are the only ones that are on this floor.”

Even _if_ someone passed through the hall, Dimitri could care less. He wanted to hear Byleth’s pleasure, he needed to know he was doing well. Anyone foolish enough to disturb them would have far more pressing matters than being scandalized by the King being intimate with his soon to be husband.

Such as him throwing the nearest weapon at them.

Well, no. He wouldn't do that, but he would be very, _very,_ irritated. 

Byleth’s hand moved from his mouth to grip the pillow behind his head, the other rested on Dimitri’s thigh. There were a few tugs at his pants there, and while Dimitri understood the silent request, he dismissed it for the moment to focus on Byleth.

He licked a wet stripe over his cock, savoring the soft groan it got him. Admittedly, Dimitri was making it up as he went. He never had been intimate with someone before this, never wanted to be. Sure, he read up on sex, but all the books he found were purely for education and did little to explain the best ways of pleasuring one’s partner. Not to mention he had not exactly anticipated the anatomy before him. 

It far from bothered Dimitri, of course, but he felt woefully lost on how to pleasure his Beloved.

Byleth did not seem uncomfortable though, so he had to have been doing _something_ right.

The tug on his pants grew a bit more impatient, and Dimitri chuckled, “Let me focus on you now, Beloved.”

Byleth snorted, but the pulling stopped.

Dimitri supported Byleth’s lower back with his hands, and nosed closer to continue dragging his tongue along him. Each time he passed over his cock, Byleth’s breath hitched, and he moaned. He turned his attention to it, and focused on alternating between licking and sucking the nub. His Beloved’s legs twitched on either side of his head, and he could feel the way his muscles tensed beneath his hands. 

The soft, barely audible, moans were music to Dimitri’s ears. 

He pulled back to check on Byleth, and the man whined. Actually _whined._ The sound went straight to Dimitri’s already hard dick.

Byleth’s head was half buried in the pillow, his eyes lidded and ears as red as his cheeks. Pride swelled in Dimitri’s gut at the sight. 

Dimitri lowered Byleth’s hips to rest on his lap, and leaned over him to peck at his lips. The man hummed into the kiss, and wrapped his arms around his neck, rolling his hips against Dimitri’s own. He groaned at the much desired pressure on his aching cock, though he moved his hands down to grab his hips, and keep Byleth from moving too much.

Dimitri wanted to savor this, and cumming in his pants would be an embarrassing way to end the night.

Byleth pulled back and leveled him with an unimpressed stare, Dimitri laughed. 

“Sorry my love, I just want this to last as long as it can.”

“I do not like being teased,” Byleth responded, then pulled Dimitri down again for another kiss. His lips left Dimitri’s and he nudged his head up to kiss along his neck.

Dimitri shuddered, pleasure licked through his veins at the feeling of Byleth dragging his lips, tongue, and teeth, along such a vulnerable place. One of his arms left Dimitri’s shoulder and moved down to brush the tips of his fingers over the tent in his pants. 

He buried his face in the crook of Byleth’s neck as the man pressed his thumb against the head of his dick. Dimitri couldn't help the way his hips rolled in response, as if his body was no longer under his own control, but rather Byleth’s. He nipped at Byleth’s throat as the man moved his legs to better wrap around Dimitri’s hips. 

Dimitri adjusted himself so he could grind against Byleth, much to both of their pleasure.

Their lips met again as Byleth tried to kick off Dimitri’s pants, the man chuckled and he pulled back just enough to pull his trousers down before slotting himself against Byleth again. Heavy breaths and moans hung in the air as their bodies pressed against each other. Dimitri eagerly swallowed every moan Byleth made, one hand on his hip, the other going between them to stroke Byleth’s dick.

The man’s back arched, nails dug into the tender flesh between his shoulder blades, teeth sunk into his shoulder. Dimitri shuddered, and continued his administrations, given by the way Byleth’s body rolled against him, and the wetness that met his fingers, the man had to be close. He kissed the side of Byleth’s jaw, and continued moving his hand as he did, Byleth ground against him, his stomach pressed against Dimitri’s cock. 

He was so warm, Dimitri buried his head in Byleth's neck.

“D-Dimitri, I…”

“Its alright my Love,” Dimitri panted, “Go ahead.”

The man’s body tensed, then fell limp. Dimitri pulled his hand away, and lifted himself enough to meet Byleth’s eyes. They were closed, his chest heaved with each breath he took, he was gorgeous. 

Dimitri leaned down and peppered kisses over Byleth’s face and jaw. 

“I love you,” He whispered.

Byleth hummed, his eyes open then, “I love you too, Dimitri.”

Before he could respond, in a surprising surge of strength, Byleth flipped him over, now perched on top of him. His cheeks were red, and breaths still came in shallow pants, yet the way he held Dimitri’s shoulders down showed no sign of exhaustion.

“Stay.”

Dimitri was helpless in the face of such a command, and did as told while Byleth slid down his body.

He jolted at the sudden warmth that enveloped his dick. Dimitri propped himself up on his elbows just in time to see Byleth swallow half of his cock. Holy shit.

The pleasure he felt was indescribable. Byleth’s mouth was wet, and warm. His tongue swirled around the tip of his cock as his head bobbed up and down. Pale hair brushed against his stomach.

It was embarrassing how quickly he felt himself descend into pleasure, his toes curled and he fought to keep his eyes open while he gripped the sheets. 

“Byleth, I-”

The man between his legs rubbed his thigh, and continued to work his cock. Dimitri’s body went numb, and he choked out a breathy moan as he came, Byleth still on his cock. The high he felt left behind only a hazy sense of satisfaction, Byleth left his cock and kissed his cheek in such a ridiculously chaste action given their activities.

Dimitri pulled Byleth down and fell back into his bed, his dearest Beloved content to rest on top of him.

The high left him only with exhaustion and joy. He loved Byleth so much.

He kissed Byleth’s head and settled himself down to rest, “Thank you, Byleth, I-”

Byleth grunted, his voice muffled by Dimitri’s chest, “If the next words you're planning to say are anything regarding me not having to do that, or that you didn't deserve it, I will throw you off the balcony.”

Dimitri laughed, “Alright, alright.”

“I love you,” Byleth murmured, relaxed and content in a way Dimitri had rarely heard before. It filled him with warmth.

“I love you too, Byleth, let us get some sleep. There are things to be done in the morning.”

* * *

When Dimitri awoke, he was cold. He reached out blindly to find Byleth’s heat, so he could curl against it, yet, no matter how far his hand patted, there was nobody sleeping beside him. Panic seized his mind. 

Warmth covered his hand and he relaxed again, the fear left his mind.

“I’m right here, relax.”

Dimitri puffed a sigh, and opened his eyes, Byleth sat on the edge of his bed, his hand rested upon his own. He wore the cloak Dimitri had let him borrow the last time he visited, and… Nothing else.

He pushed the inappropriate thoughts from his mind and sat up, “You alright?”

“Of course,” Byleth snorted, “Dedue stopped by with food and mail.”

“ _Please_ tell me you didn't answer the door like that.”

“Ok. I did not answer the door like this.”

Dimitri groaned and rolled onto his stomach so he could bury his embarrassment in his pillow. Byleth pat his head and left the bed again, Dimitri turned his head to follow his lover’s movement to his desk where two plates of food waited, as well as more additions to the growing pile of letters he needed to deal with.

He really, really, did not want to.

“What do the letters say?”

Byleth shrugged and took a bite from his slice of bread, “Didn't open them, it's not _my_ mail.”

“My mail is your mail, Byleth, I have nothing to hide.”

The man hummed, and grabbed the first unopened scroll and looked it over, “Ah, this one is about Duscur. Are you planning on going there soon?”

Dimitri nodded, “Yes, I promised their general I would help them rebuild. I have been considering asking if the construction company in Enbarr would be willing to lend a few hands.”

“I’m sure they would, they seemed to like you a lot.”

“You think so?”

Byleth turned to regard him with a raised brow, no words were spoken, but the silent stare he got spoke plenty. 

Dimitri chuckled, “Fair.”

“I’ll probably be gone for a few weeks,” Dimitri continued, “I have other business in the north to attend to.”

“Hm. Always knew you were going to run away with Dedue.”

Dimitri sat up in his panic, “What? N-no! It's not like that Beloved I-”

“I was joking,” Byleth stated, his tone as neutral and unassuming as usual, “Everyone knows how smitten he is with Ashe anyway.”

“You… do?”

He set the paper down and turned to face Dimitri fully, “Yes? He is not subtle.”

“Huh,” Dimitri mused, “I… I mean no offense, but I always thought you weren't quite in tune to such things.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well,” Dimitri flushed, “I… I had tried to romance you before the war, when you were still my professor, and then with the letter-”

“Dimitri, I was _well_ aware of your feelings then. I did not act on them because I was your teacher, as for the letter…” He trailed off, his own cheeks flushing, “I am poor with words, and got advice from some… Questionable sources.”

Dimitri laughed, he rose from his bed and wrapped an arm around Byleth’s shoulders, pressed another kiss to the crown of his head, then grabbed his own slice of bread. Byleth rested his cheek against his arm, and they stood like that for some time until knocks were heard on the door.

“Your Majesty? Are you awake?”

Dimitri blushed again, “Y-Yes, I am now, Dedue. Do you need something?”

“Ah good. You have some visitors that are requesting your presence. I told them to wait until you were ready, so do take your time,” Dedue’s voice was humored, bordering upon teasing and despite the door still being closed, Dimitri buried his blush in Byleth’s neck, “Thank you, Dedue. I’ll be down shortly.”

There was a laugh, then the heavy thud of boots against stone and carpet disappeared. 

“You are embarrassed?”

Dimitri shook his head and kissed Byleth again, and again. The man gently pushed him back a bit, a warm smile rested upon his lips, “You do have duties to attend to, and you _stink._ ”

He scoffed, and stubbornly stole another kiss from Byleth before he pulled away fully.

“I suppose you are right, come, we should bathe and get dressed proper.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Oh yeah this'll be a short chapter since it's kinda a filler chapter since things start to pick up soon  
> Also me: Yeah but what if-  
> Me: Say no more, have another 22 pages
> 
> So YEAH. This is a bit of a filler chapter tbh? Some important information has been laid here, but much of it wont come into fruition until later. Also hey, look at that, earning that spicy rating. Noice.
> 
> As usual, thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and fret not, there is an actual plot, and is is going to start kicking up DAMN fast. Hope y'all ready.
> 
> Last but not least, here is my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/vulturepops) and [Tumblr](https://disastergays.tumblr.com/) if you want to come hang!


	11. A Gift Crafted for You Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Annette on one arm and Mercedes on the other, Dimitri couldn't help but feel as though he were a prisoner on track for the hangman’s noose. He was excited, of course, he wanted to find the perfect fabric for Byleth’s cloak.
> 
> Yet… He was very much the center of attention and he hated it.

Duscur was cold, just as Faerghus was. 

A lot rockier, from what Dimitri could tell, but no less freezing. Though it seemed they did not even get the chance for warmer seasons, and had snow all year long. It was beautiful though, the pine trees were massive there.

Dimitri had opted to leave much of the negotiations and talking to Dedue, he knew the people better, and Dimitri trusted him. Thus leaving him with little to do at the moment other than look over the ruined city sprawled before him. 

The sight pained him.

Being there brought back memories Dimitri tried to forget. Maybe he should have taken Byleth up on his offer to accompany him. 

No, it was better that he didn't. 

While Byleth at his side would make this far easier, he needed to soothe without Byleth. The dependence he had on him was unhealthy, he knew, plus given how much of a wreck he became when Byleth left for only four months… He had a lot to work up toward. Byleth could be gone for a year or more at a time.

Dedue returned to his side with a scroll in hand.

“What is the consensus?”

“They have agreed for us to help, but not to send builders or any help from Fearghus itself. If the reconstruction goes well, Brilaen will formally open negotiations for a proper treadey.”

Dimitri nodded, “Sounds fair. I will get in contact with the construction workers from Enbarr then, and see if they can spare any, otherwise I’ll go to Lorenz and see who he may have available.”

“Very well, I will pass that on. Otherwise, we are free to leave.”

“So Brilaen wants us gone.”

“...Yes.”

Dimitri couldn't blame him, “Fair enough. We’ll leave immediately.”

“Ah… Your Majesty?”

Dimitri hesitated in his step, and turned to face Dedue, his voice bordered on apprehensive. Was something wrong?

“Yes?”

“If possible… I… Would like to stay here. Just for a little while. I can be of use here I am sure, and I-”

“Dedue.”

“Sorry, Your Majesty. Yes?”

“You can stay as long as you want,” Dimitri smiled, “You do not need to be so nervous asking such a thing, if you asked to remain here indefinitely, I’d allow it. You know that.”

“Yes, but… Do not be foolish, alright Dimitri? Make sure to eat and sleep.”

Dimitri snorted, “I am not a child.”

“No, but you forget to eat just as often as you forget to sleep at a reasonable hour. I will write letters frequently.”

It was odd, saying goodbye to Dedue. Of course, this was not a permanent thing, and he would not be surprised if Dedue returned within a month. Yet for years, Dedue was always at his side. It would definitely take some adjusting, but this was important to both him and Dimitri. 

Dedue deserved to be with his people for as long as he desired.

He was surprised when the man brought him in for a tight embrace. All of the hugs he had received were from those much smaller than him, to receive one from someone taller was… Odd. Yet the warmth was comforting, and he returned the gesture.

Perhaps it would be just as odd for Dedue.

He mounted Juniper Axe, and led the few soldiers that did accompany him back down the trail to Fhirdiad. They reached the capital in four and a half days.

* * *

“You’ve got a lot of mail today,” Ingrid hummed, and flipped through the scrolls he had presented her with. Some of business, others regarding extra help he would need with Byleth’s gift.

“If possible, I’d like the ones to the church and Mercedes be delivered as swiftly as possible. And do make sure Seteth knows the scroll is not to be seen by Byleth, I want to surprise him.”

“I’ll deliver that one myself then,” She laughed, “I can send out my fastest to deliver Mercedes’, she’ll get it in two days' time.”

“Make sure you aren't overworking anyone.”

Ingrid waved him off, “Please, I know what my people can and can not do. I’ll leave my best here to guard you while I am away.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“ _ Can _ you?” Ingrid raised a brow, “Dedue is not here, and we all know he is the only one keeping you on a decent schedule most days.”

She was right, still, the jib stung a little. 

“I can. I promised Dedue as such, and I do not break promises.”

She chuckled, but said no more on the subject, instead she bowed, “Very well, Your Majesty. I shall see to it that these are delivered swiftly. Should I wait for a response from Seteth before I return?”

“If you can spare the time, I’d greatly appreciate it.”

Ingrid nodded, twirled on the heel of her boot, and descended the stairs of his throne to leave him alone in a room far too big for one. With letters written, and preparations made, Dimitri would depart tomorrow to hunt a moose for his beloved.

In his mind, he knew exactly what he wanted the cloak to look like, yet he knew getting the final product to match his desire would be difficult at best. He’d need help, a lot of it. Still, he was determined. Byleth deserved the best, and Dimitri would strive to make his gift one Byleth would treasure.

He had anticipated about a week to find the animal, hunt it, and bring it back to be properly skinned. Of course, he’d have it’s meat cooked and everything taken from the creature. It’s body would be food, and perhaps he could use the antlers for something for Byleth. Otherwise he’d give it along with other bones to the weaponsmith.

The cloak would need a clasp, perhaps he could carve one from an antler?

That would be something for him to decide later, now, he figured he should probably eat and get an early rest. His people would be fine with him gone, he would only be absent for a week, though planned for two, just to be safe.

* * *

Dimitri rose before the sun, and had the stablehands ready Juniper Axe as he went to the weaponry to retrieve his lace. The chill that settled over the Faerghus was biting, one that would sink into a man’s bones and turn them to ice. Dimitri had long since built a tolerance for cold, but that far from made him immune.

The heavy fur cloak that brandished his shoulders kept most of the chill from his body.

He reached the stand he kept Areadbhar; though paused before his fingers actually reached the weapon. Dimitri had not been thinking, he just reached for the lace that had been by his side for years-

He shouldn't take it.

After all he had forced the weapon to do under his own skewed sense of justice. He couldn't wield it. He didn't  _ deserve _ to. Perhaps… When he returned to Garreg Mach, he could return the weapon to the church. So it would never again be used for needless slaughter in the hands of evil.

As he pulled away, the lance hummed with energy.

Dimitri hesitated again. The fingers of the lance twitched and clacked together, creating a horribly grotesque rattling sound. He had never seen it move so much before. When he reached his hand out to grasp it, the noise quieted, and the previously charged air around it dissipated.

“Do… You  _ want _ to come with me?” Dimitri felt foolish talking to a weapon, yet the way the fingers curled just enough to almost beacon him… How much sentience did the relics maintain?

Dimitri grabbed the weapon and strapped it to his back. It seemed to have settled, no longer thrumming as it had been. He had a lot of questions, and wasn't sure who could answer them. Lady Rhea, perhaps.

He did not plan on ever using the lance as a weapon again. So he grabbed a silver lance to hunt with instead. If Areadbhar wanted to come with then who was he to deny that of them? Was it a them? The weapon had once been a person, or, Nabatean, right? He wondered what kind of individual they once were, and he wondered who had slaughtered them.

So much did not make sense though. 

Blaiddyd was one of the ten elites, a  _ hero. _ He had joined Nemesis in the fight to save Fódlan from evil, and was gifted with the relic by the goddess herself. Why would Sothis just…  _ Give _ weapons crafted from her children’s bodies to people?

Nothing added up. Perhaps there was a reason Sothis would do such a thing, maybe she had a good cause? 

Dimitri had many questions, with none around to answer them.

* * *

Dimitri was gone before the sun fully rose into the sky.

He traveled north, he remembered as a child, seeing a mother and her calf on one of the many times he had trained. At the time, he hated Gilbert for forcing him to learn how to survive with nothing from such a young age. Now, well, Dimitri supposed that was all that kept him alive in the five years he had been… Out of it.

When evening fell, he dismounted Juniper Axe and tugged him off the trail and into the pine forest beginning to shape around them. He found a nice enough place, and set up camp. Fire first, and once it was set to a steady flame, Dimitri allowed himself to relax.

He’d probably have to travel north for another day before he’d be in moose territory, then with luck, be able to actually find one within a day or two. Once he found one, killing it would be easy, then he’d just have to decide the best way to transport it.

Dimitri  _ could _ skin it right there, he did bring his hunting knife with him.

Yet he was not as skilled in flaying meat off a corpse, and he did not desire for the animal to go to waste.

He set Areadbhar to his left and poked at the flames with a branch, adjusting the logs his fire had been crafted from. The weapon thrummed and twitched, though did not seem displeased. Or perhaps it was.  _ Could _ it feel?

It was hard to tell if the weapon had always moved as it did, Dimitri had not paid it any mind before, given it was well known all the relics moved occasionally. Maybe it wasn't until he realized the weapon was once, and maybe still is, a living being did he actually watch it as he was.

He remembered when Sylvain got his relic, back when they were still students. He hated the thing, said it creeped him out. Didn't like how it moved or something, he fought Byleth a lot on actually taking and using the item as intended. Adamant it gave him a bad feeling, he eventually relented, but even now still only uses the weapon as a last resort.

Dimitri wondered how long Byleth knew of the Hero’s Relics’ true nature.

Why haven't they been told what the relics were made from?  _ Who _ they were made from?

Was the Nabatean his lance crafted from a good person? Did they have family, friends? Were they a soldier, a merchant, nobility? Or were they just a person, one that lived their life working on a farm, or perhaps manning a boat?

What had made them so special, that their corpse was desecrated, and their heart turned into the core of a weapon. Did anything make them special, or were they just in the wrong place at the wrong time?

“Can… You hear me?”

The lance did not speak, but twitched. He couldn't tell if that was a normal twitch, or an act of response.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Off in the distance he could hear the howl of wolves. They were pretty far away, he did not worry about being a victim to their hunt. They were content to live and let live with humans as far as he had experienced in the past. He would keep Juniper Axe close though, just to be safe.

Sleep didn't come to him that night, the voices had been louder than usual.

Dimitri rose with the sun and continued north. Around midday, he spotted tracks. He slid off Juniper Axe and trodded over to the churned snow. It had been a while since whatever made the tracks had been there, but it was a trail.

He was lucky, the tracks were definitely of a moose. They weren't terribly clear, so it was hard to determine the size of the beast, still, it was a start, if nothing else. 

The animal was headed northeast, he mounted Juniper Axe, and followed the prints. 

Another day passed, Dimitri pulled away from the trail and made camp near a particularly large snowbank. He rested Areadbhar against the snow, then decided against it and gave the weapon it’s own blanket to sleep upon.

_ Did _ it sleep?

After Juniper Axe was fed, he settled down himself, wrapping blankets around him for warmth while he kicked out a patch of snowless ground to lay furs upon to rest. Night was eerily quiet, nothing but the whistle of wind and snow. No owls, no wolves.

The stars were beautiful.

Did the Goddess  _ ever _ live among the mountains and stars? Sothis certainly didn't now, and hadn't at least for Byleth or his mother’s lifetimes. Would Byleth have to live up there one day? Dimitri selfishly hoped that if he did, it would be after Dimitri had left the world.

The night was too quiet, so he filled it, “I don't know if you can understand me, or even hear me. But I… I want to apologize for what I did. What I made you do.”

Areadbhar was silent.

“It is no excuse, but I wasn't in my right mind. I… Hadn't been for a very long time. Not really sure I am now, in truth,” Dimitri murmured against the fur around his shoulders, “I wish I knew more then, I wish I knew more now. Maybe there is a way to reverse what happened to you… Though that is probably just wishful thinking, I don't know if you would even  _ want _ a body after all this. Perhaps what you’d want more, what you’d deserve, would be the right to finally rest.”

Dimitri moved his gaze from the fire to the lance, the fingers twitched and clacked together. But no other response was given. Could the lance truly hear him? Was it trying to communicate back to him?

Curious, Dimitri lifted his hand and curled it into a fist. A moment passed, and slowly, the ends of the fingers on his lance curled in, mimicking the fist in a rough imitation. The joints couldnt move properly, yet… The intent was there.

Dimitri covered his mouth with his hand, he was going to throw up.

He stumbled to his feet and hurled the little bit of rations he ate earlier in the afternoon onto the once pristine snow. This whole time. This whole damn time, he had used a sentient being, a  _ person, _ as a method of slaughtering innocent lives. 

He had tortured people with it. Savored the way fear lit in their eyes, how they begged for death and mercy.

The blood that caked his hands could never be washed clean.

After a while, he managed to compose himself, and return to the fire before he started to develop frostbite. The lance remained where it was, silent, but thrumming with energy. He wished he could speak to Areadbhar, to apologize properly. 

But he couldn't. 

So he sat beside the weapon and brought his knees to his chest. He was out here for a reason, it was a good one. Byleth would love the cloak he’d make for him, he hoped.

“I don't know if you know much about Byleth, my, uh, lover? Fiancé? Soon to be Fiancé, I hope.” 

He laid down on his back, maybe Areadbhar would feel less lonely if he spoke to it? He wasn't sure where he got the notion they were lonely from, but it was there, and frankly after all of this, he wasn't going to question it.

“He is a fantastic man, truly. That's why I’m out here, actually- to hunt a moose for him. In Faerghus, it is tradition to present your intended with a gift, something to show their value to you, or prove yourself as capable of providing for them. I’m going to make Byleth a cloak…” As night trailed on, so did Dimitri’s words. Eventually dissolving into nonsense as the man fell asleep.

Morning came, and Dimitri started on again.

The moose he had been tracking was massive, a young buck in his prime no doubt. The fur he bore was a warm brown, and the antlers stood tall above his head, a crown, in a sense.

Dimitri took his throwing lance, aimed, and struck true. No suffering, no drawn out death. A spear between the eyes, and he was gone.

He tied the moose up with rope, and a few supporting logs to make dragging it easier, then led Juniper Axe back to Fhirdiad. Travel was slow, even with him being the one dragging the moose back to the capital, walking in snow was never easy. 

And when snow became too shallow, Dimitri managed to heft the carcass, poorly, over his back to carry the rest of the way between stops to sleep at night.

He returned in five days.

* * *

Dimitri did not like brushing his hair. 

But the thought of Flayn getting her hands on it again was horrifying, so he tied the blond away from his face. It was brushed well enough, probably. 

He had only been back for a full day and there already were people crawling from the cobblestone gaps to speak to him of ‘urgent matters’. Not a single one had been actually urgent. 

He did get a letter from Sylvain and Felix though. Sylvain wrote it, and expressed in the most absolutely unnecessarily formal terms how mad he was Dimitri hadn't told him about the cloak before he and Felix left. Dimitri wasn't sure who he heard about it from, and frankly, he wouldn't be surprised if Dorothea already knew everything happening now, even down in Brigid.

Word traveled ridiculously fast between his friends. He only hoped Byleth had not heard of his surprise yet.

When he entered the dining room to sneak some breakfast before he had to posture in front of a bunch of people he disliked, he found the table was not empty.

Mercedes sat next to his usual seat, a plate of food before her, and a plate already set out for him. 

Huh.

“Good morning, Mercedes. I wasn't expecting you so soon.”

“Oh goodness please,” She laughed, “After reading your letter Annette and I packed right away! We are so excited to see what you have in mind for the cloak.”

“I fear with how fast word has gotten around, Byleth may already know of it.”

She shook her head and patted the spot next to her, he obediently sat down to eat.

“Do not be foolish, Your Majesty, we all know it should be a surprise. No one will speak a word of this to Byleth, I am sure of it. We’re just excited, it's the next big step for you two, and you both deserve happiness.”

“Thank you, Mercedes, it means a lot.”

The woman lit up, a wide smile beamed across her face, “Of course! Now, tell me what you are thinking.”

Dimitri finished chewing before he spoke, “I want the cloak to be black, I have to wait to hear back from Seteth on one aspect of the design, but along the bottom, I want it embroidered.”

Mercedes nodded and pulled the small booklet she had in front of her plate closer so she could write on it. 

“Do you have any pictures drawn up?”

“... I can't draw.”

She giggled and waved her charcoal at him, “No worries then, I shall endeavor to get an image down for you. So the collar will be made of fur, yes?”

“Right, I want it to be lined with it as well, since Byleth seems to chill pretty easily.”

“That's very thoughtful of you!”

Dimitri ducked his head in a lame attempt to hide his blush, “I’d like it to have a hood too. And I want a little um..  _ Wyvern, _ embroidered under it. Then along the hem at the bottom, I was thinking… If possible, I’d like a line of forget-me-nots, like a little garden.”

Mercedes scribbled on her paper, humming to herself as she worked. After a couple minutes of silence, she showed him a rough sketch.

“Yes, yes exactly like that. But the wyvern will look different, Seteth will be sending me a better example in his letter.”

She nodded, “Very well. Let us finish eating and shop for some fabrics then!”

* * *

With Annette on one arm and Mercedes on the other, Dimitri couldn't help but feel as though he were a prisoner on track for the hangman’s noose. He was excited, of course, he wanted to find the perfect fabric for Byleth’s cloak.

Yet… He was very much the center of attention and he hated it.

It wasn't like he could blend in either, he was tall, as were all Blaiddyds, and he supposed the amount of tall blond men with an eyepatch was limited in Fhirdiad. He sorely missed Dedue, he’d probably have gone to the market and come back with the perfect choice.

Maybe it was better  _ he _ was picking it out? He wanted the gift to be personal, and despite having a lot of help with it, at the end, he wanted to craft the cloak from his own two hands as best he could.

“Oh! Dimitri, what about this one?” Annette dragged him to a window with a few fabrics hung for display.

It was a silky looking fabric, it shimmered in the light of the early morning. The fabric was beautiful but… It didn't seem quite right.

“No, I don't think that’d be a good fit.”

Annette pulled him inside anyway, and Mercedes kept him from trying to flee, as he was bodied into the shop. An elderly woman stood behind an oak counter, comically large glasses perched upon a small button nose.

“Oh? Customers? Why, hello there,” The woman slid off the stool she sat upon and disappeared briefly before stepping out from behind the counter with a cane. 

“Hi there! We’re looking to get some fabric for our friend here, he’s getting engaged.”

The woman smiled and adjusted her glasses, “Oh wonderful, what do you have in mind?”

“Um. Something black.”

“Man of few words, I see,” She chuckled, and walked to the silken sheet hung before the window, “I guess this caught your eye?”

Annette took the fabric from the woman when she held it up and draped it over her head, “Perfect! Now Byleth can lurk in style.”

“He does not  _ lurk. _ ”

“He wears mostly black when he can and tries to avoid all contact with people he doesn't know,” Annette responded, “He lurks.”

Dimitri scoffed, Byleth was a busy man that did not have time to talk to every single person that graced the monastery, he was sure. Besides, he was plenty social with his former students.

“So I take silk is not what you're looking for, young man?”

Dimitri wondered if the woman realized who he was, he hoped she didn't.

“No, something more practical would be his style, something that’d be warm, I was thinking dyed cotton, if you had any.”

The woman rubbed her chin with a free hand and nodded, “I see, tell me about your betrothed.”

Annette groaned, and Mercedes giggled. 

“Well, his name is Byleth. He is a very quiet man, but very thoughtful. I… Want to make him something nice, but he isn't one for frivolous dress wear, so I want it to be practical too.”

“What is he like, other than quiet?”

Dimitri wasn't sure what this had to do with getting fabric, but he was content to keep talking about Byleth, “He shows how he feels, and instead of saying how much he cares about someone, he would spend  _ weeks _ cultivating a whole greenhouse with forget-me-knots because it was my favorite flower.”

“ _ That's _ why the greenhouse was overrun with them?” Mercedes questioned, still content to hang off his arm, “That is so sweet.”

Dimitri hung his head to hide the blush growing on his cheeks.

“I see, I see. Then I think I have just the fabric, wait here one moment,” The woman turned and hobbled away from them to a room behind the wall of the counter, soft clacks from her shoes and cane could faintly be heard as they waited.

“I wonder what she will get us,” Mercedes hummed, “I bet it will be lovely.”

Annette trotted back to the pole where the silk had been draped and put the fabric back where it belonged, “Silk would have looked prettier.”

“Yes, but His Majesty is right, I don't know if the professor would really care for appearances as much.”

“I guess… Still, he’s the Archbishop! He ought to put more effort into looking the part.”

“He always looks elegant,” Dimitri grunted.

“You only think that because you can't look at him without swooning like a teenager,” Annette pointed a finger at Dimitri, her face managed to be serious for almost a minute, before the act fell and she dissolved into giggles with Mercedes.

“Oh my, this is heavier than I thought,” The woman’s voice sounded muffled, “Can one of you be a dear and help me carry this?”

Dimitri wasted no time tracking down the tiny woman, eventually he found her half buried in a heavy woven line of fabric. It was black and thick, Dimitri recognized it as something that many pegasus riders wore on long journeys to keep warm. He easily lifted the fabric, though it didn't feel like cotton, and freed the woman from what could have been her untimely demise. 

“Thank you sweetie, can you carry it to the counter for me?”

“Of course.”

He set the sheet of fabric down upon the oak, careful not to let any of it brush the ground. After a moment, the woman took a seat in the stool she had just behind the counter, and brushed her knobby fingers over the cloth.

“This here is woven wool, it will be warmer than cotton, and also looks nice,” She explained, “You are getting engaged, your gift should look good too. Even those who don't seem to care for outward appearances, still appreciate lovely things.”

Dimitri hadn't really considered that before. Byleth had always loved flowers, and he remembered Byleth telling him about the flowers he liked and why. Some he liked because they were important to people he cared about, but some he just liked because he found them pretty. Dimitri would have to rethink the flowers he’d embroider along the hem. Perhaps one flower for each of their friends?

Yeah, Byleth would like that.

“You are right,” Dimitri agreed, and ran his hand over the plush wool. 

It was a bit stracty to the touch, as many fur related fibers were, but it was heavy and would be warm. Plus with the moose fur lining the inside, he didn't have to worry about it coming in direct contact with Byleth’s skin, in case it was sensitive to that sort of thing.

Annette patted the line of fabric herself, Mercedes followed suit. They both seemed to give it their seal of approval, so Dimitri agreed to purchase the whole line. 

Was it overkill? Probably. But he wanted to be sure he’d have spare fabric just in case he messed up on a section.

The woman bundled the fabric up with joy and pushed it toward Dimitri, a warm smile graced her features, “I am sure he will love it, Your Highness.”

* * *

“I broke another one.”

Mercedes, bless her, didn't even sigh as she fished out another fresh needle for him, and passed it over.

“Don't go so fast, if you are slower, it might be easier to push through the fabric.”

Dimitri nodded and followed her advice, they weren't even working on the actual cloak yet, but he was so nervous. He knew nothing about embroidery, and even less about art and making things look pretty. Mercedes said she’d help him, but also agreed he needed to do the core of the work.

He started to get the hang of it, as long as he worked agonizingly slow, he broke less needles. After a couple days of practice, it was time to embroider the real deal. 

Dimitri and Mercedes had adjusted the floral pattern on the bottom to incorporate a whole bunch of vastly different flowers. A flower for each student. Byleth would (hopefully) be Dimitri’s husband soon, but he knew the man’s former students were just as important to him as he was.

“Why are we embroidering it now? The hide is still tanning.”

“It is easier to push a needle through wool than leather  _ and _ wool,” Mercedes explained, white chalk brushed along the bottom of the measured strips they had cut, “Plus, this way the pattern can only be seen from the side we want it to be, since the rough side will be covered by fur.”

Made sense, he supposed, and they got to work.

Ingrid arrived with the response from Seteth the day after, and upon transferring the sketch Seteth had sent him, began to embroider the white, four winged dragon to the back of the cloak, just under the hood.

“That is an odd looking wyvern,” Mercedes commented, her fingers expertly cut and tied the thread he would need to finish the design.

Dimitri pulled back from the partially finished dragon, fearful he would break the needle in his stress, “Ah, yes, well. It's something of a… uh… Inside thing. Between us. He’ll get it.”

Mercedes laughed, “Sure, sure, I’ll pretend I don't know who that is then!”

Wait. 

_ Did _ she know? Who all knew? He thought he had been very secretive in the letter, and Seteth did not speak anything about Byleth being a dragon in his response, right? 

“Please do not break another needle, I only have a couple left.”

“R-Right, sorry.”

* * *

Dedue returned just before he finished the cloak, three weeks later. Dimitri had missed the man greatly. 

Finally, though, it was just about done.

Dimitri draped the finished garment over a mannequin, it was beautiful, if he did say so himself. He grabbed his needle and a fresh string of thread, the final touch was needed, a single clasp to hold the cloak shut. Carved from one the antlers of the moose, the bone had been shaped to resemble a forget-me-not flower, a blue sapphire set in the center where the pollen would have been. 

The antler itself was embedded in silver, both to keep it sturdy and to give something to actually thread through when attaching the clasp. When both sides were sewn on, Dimitri tested the fastening by pushing up on the sapphire, allowing the ‘flower’ to break into two separate halves, then clicked them back together.

Perfect.

“I hope he likes it,” Dimitri was proud of the cloak, in the end he made it himself, crafted entirely by his own hand. The finer details, and carving of the clasp were largely done with the help of his friends, but at the end of the day, Dimitri was proud to say each stitch sewn was by his own hand.

What if Byleth didn't like it?

Dedue rested a hand on his shoulder, “He will love it.”

Dimitri let out a breath he had not known he was holding, Dedue was right. Byleth would love it. Now, he just had to deliver it.

To Byleth.

In person.

Dimitri had no idea why the thought scared him so much.

“Just because it is finished, does not mean you have to deliver it now,” Dedue took his hand from his shoulder and took a step back.

Confused, Dimitri turned to face him, “What do you mean?”

“There is no reason to rush, this can be done on your time. If you are not ready, then you can hold onto the gift until you are.”

In a way, having the pressure of it needing to be done right away taken from his shoulders, only made him want to do it sooner. He  _ wanted _ to see Byleth’s reaction, he wanted to propose to him proper, he wanted to be formally engaged, he  _ wanted _ to marry the best man he ever had the grace of knowing.

“I… Would like to depart as soon as we are able,” Dimitri decided, he had a plan for how he wanted everything to work, all he had to do was put it in motion.

Dedue chuckled, “Of course, you have a council meeting to go over territorial disputes next week, but after that, you are free for some time.”

“Good, we leave after the council.”

“Very well.”

* * *

Dimitri could almost feel his brain melt from his skull. In truth, he really did not even need to be at this meeting, it was territory and marriage disputes between a couple of lords from the old Alliance territory and ones in Faerghus. Genuinely, he was just there for show and to have the final say if the five men could not come to a civil agreement.

Lorenz was there as well, though as an ambassador for the former Alliance, and wasn't directly involved in the squabble. At least he looked more invested in the current matters, that, or was good at pretending to be. He would not be surprised if the man actually did find some sort of entertainment or value in listening to the men complain about what in large would amount to nothing.

“It is only right my family has ownership of the valley, we are a larger one, and we had remained loyal to his Majesty, unlike  _ you _ deserters.”

“The land belonged to my great grandparents before the split, my family wants it back. It was  _ ours _ first.”

Dimitri massaged the side of his head. If it were up to him, he’d split the land in half and they both could get extra property to their family’s name. When the Alliance had broken off from Faerghus, the valley became a neutral ground, no longer belonging to either nation. The soil was supposedly very rich, and with the amount of sun the valley could get, the area was ideal for growing and producing crops or raising livestock.

So, needless to say, both of the men present wanted it, and in turn, the other three representatives wanted it as well. Each man had promised a portion of the fertile area to their own allies, in return for helping them buy out the land.

That caused fights between them, and now, Dimitri had to sit and watch them bicker as children did over their favorite toy. Still, he listened as each of them gave their reasoning for staking claim on the land. He may find it boring, but he wasn't a fool, this was important in both maintaining peace, as well as keeping those within his rule well cared for.

Finally, they turned to him for his decision.

“The Dionise family will have the valley, it was once theirs, and so it shall return to them. They are not deserters, nor was their family. Regardless of if they stayed with Faerghus or became a member of the Alliance, they are with us once more, that in the end, is what matters. There will be no punishment, nor reward, for formally being either as we are one nation now. Respect each other as such.”

There was rumbling from the Grigori family, but they already had more than enough territory. They did not need the valley as the Dionise family did, that ultimately, was what swayed his decision. He would have it arranged for the Grigoris to have some gold in consolation for not obtaining the land they wanted.

With the dispute settled, Dimitri dismissed himself from the chamber they had held their discussion in. 

“Well done, your Majesty! Masterfully put, if I do say so myself.”

Dimitri slowed his stride so Lorenz could catch up to him, “Why do you say that?”

“Well it's obvious, you made a smart decision, no matter how the Grigoris will complain about it next council.”

“Ah, well, thank you. I am glad you believe so.”

Lorenz chuckled, “Oh please, no need to be so modest your Majesty. Your intellect is beyond calibre.”

Dimitri liked Lorenz, he did, but he also knew the man was being far too kind for it to be natural.

“Alright, what do you want?”

The man blinked, then laughed again, this time strained and a touch nervous, “Ah, I suppose I was not as subtle as I should have been.”

“No, you were not. Lorenz, if you need my help with something, all you have to do is ask. You're my friend, no need to try and kiss my boots to get on my good side.”

“You… Are right. I apologize,” Lorenz sighed, the previous cheerful facade fell from his face, “I do need your help.”

“Should we speak in private?”

“Yes.”

Dimitri led Lorenz from the hall down to one of the many unused rooms. The castle was far too big for one man and a couple of servants, so many rooms, like the one he gestured Lorenz into, were left unattended. Clean, of course, but free of anything other than idle decoration.

“Dedue, can you make sure no one disturbs us?”

“Of course.”

The man stood vigil at the door when Dimitri closed it behind him and Lorenz.

He motioned to one of three seats in the room, and sat down on the one across from it, “So, what troubles you?”

“It was passed along to me that Ingrid had been investigating some unusual bandits,” Lorenz started, his ankle pulled to rest upon his knee.

“Yes, they had appeared to head north, to the Sreng desert, until she lost sight of them. To my latest update, she still has people looking out for them, though when I was north, I did not run into anything other than animals.”

“Hilda’s brother, Holdst, reported seeing a group of strange people at Fodlan’s throat. They did not attack, nor pose any sort of threat, though they did skirt along the Almyrian side of the border. Holdst sent spies after them, and reported that they may have taken a boat north… Toward Sreng.”

Dimitri nodded, “I see, what makes you, or, what made Holdst believe they were not just natives returning home?”

“Sreng and Almyra are hardly friends,” Lorenz snorted, “There would be no reason for them to favor Almyra over our land if they were simply returning home, and yet, they took great care not to step foot within the border. Does that not strike you as suspicious?”

“Sure, but I am not in the business of hunting people down with no reason, not anymore.”

Lorenz’s face fell, guilt graced his features momentarily, then hardened, “There is one other thing to report, something that Hilda passed on to me alone. Among them, there were several mages and… What seemed to have been the Death Knight.”

Dimitri froze at that, “The Death Knight?”

“Yes, Hilda is suspicious of the account, and can only go by what the spies had described to both her and Holdst, but she is worried what it could mean. She reached out to Claude, he was well aware of them, and is equally concerned.  _ Especially _ with the knowledge that the Death Knight was spared.”

“What reason would Jeritza have to go to Sreng though? That makes no sense.”

“And yet, that is what is being told.”

To say the news was alarming, would be an understatement. Byleth had been so sure that Jertiza deserved a chance to live, to not be under anyone’s thumb. Perhaps the man was simply finding a new path of life for himself, and it was nothing less than that.

Yet, if that were the case, why would he still be described as the Death Knight, after all, he was only known as that due to his armor. So, he still wore his armor then? Why would he if his intentions were of peace?

“Thank you, Lorenz, for bringing this to my attention. I will discuss with Mercedes what she believes her brother may be doing, and I will inform Sylvain of the matter as well, he may be able to have a better understanding of what the climate in Sreng is now, given his land borders it.”

Lorenz nodded, “Very good. Then, I must be off, I have several things to get done before the month is over yet.”

“Of course, allow me to walk you to the stables.”

* * *

The ride to the monastery took ages.

It didn't, in truth, but it sure felt like it. Especially knowing he had sent word ahead to Seteth, informing him of his intended arrival. He wondered if he kept that a secret from Byleth as well. It would be nice to surprise him by showing up, but he was far more invested in giving the man the cloak he had crafted.

Ashe and Dedue accompanied them, Ingrid had been sent ahead, and Felix and Sylvain were… Doing something else. He wasn't sure what, just that they would not make the journey with him. He hoped it had nothing to do with the Death Knight, nor any suspicious activity in Sreng.

Ashe spoke the entire ride there, babbling on about anything and everything. Dimitri appreciated him filling the silence, so his thoughts would not have a chance to run wild and spiral out of control. He feared he would overthink everything, lose his courage, and try to turn tail back for Fhirdiad.

He was excited, but so very nervous.

When they passed through the gate, Dimitri dismounted and led Juniper Axe toward the stable, no sign of Byleth. Likely meaning he did not know of his arrival, yet. He would find out shortly, Dimitri was sure, he only hoped he could be the one to surprise him rather than a guard mentioning it to him.

He had only just begun to settle Juniper Axe in her stall for the next couple days when Dedue nudged him aside.

“Go on, I’ll finish taking care of the mounts and unpacking.”

“Are you sure?”

Dedue snorted, and no further response was needed. Dimitri thanked him with a pat on his shoulder, and made haste through the courtyard to reach the cathedral. With the sun cresting it’s peak, Byleth likely would be either in the cathedral or dining hall, unless there were some meeting or audiences he had to attend.

Song began to fill the air as he strode closer to the cathedral. Choir practice, from the sound of it. He wondered if there were students starting to attend the Officer’s Academy again, or if it simply was the residents keeping up with their song. He ducked in and stuck close to the wall, cautious to not disrupt anyone. 

They all were adults, aside from some younglings here and there, but far too young to be enrolled in the academy. Likely orphans or squires, then. No sign of Byleth though, so Dimitri did not stay long. 

The dining hall was loud and full, yet also held no sign of Byleth.

Where was he?

Perhaps he was in a meeting? He returned to the main hall and trekked up to the second floor, Alois’ door was open, though only Cathrine and Shamir were present inside.

“Good afternoon.”

Catherine jumped and her hand immediately went for her sword, her… Relic. Dimitri tried not to think about it, or Areadbhar strapped to his back, and instead stepped into the room fully, so as to make his identity known.

Catherine relaxed and laughed, her hand brushed stray hair from her face, “You startled me, Your Majesty.”

“My apologies.”

Shamir, to her credit, was entirely unphased. Instead she cut right to the subject he had come to inquire for, “Looking for Byleth?”

“Ah, yes. He isn't in the cathedral or dining hall.”

Catherine elbowed her wife, “Its  _ His Grace, _ you know better Shamir.”

The woman snorted, though commented no further on the matter, so Cathrine continued for her, “He was with Lady Rhea, Seteth and Flayn on the third floor last I saw him. They were discussing private affairs, I believe. Seteth informed me you're allowed to join.”

“Thank you,” He nodded, and continued upstairs. Sure enough, he could hear voices as he began his accent. Couldn't pick out what they were saying, but he recognized Flayn’s laugh.

They all stood upon the balcony, Flayn had her feet dipped into the left pond, a pile of white flowers beside her. Seteth and Rhea leant against the railing, Rhea’s hair was up in a loose bun, though flowers still decorated the sides of her head.

Seteth looked the same, as did Byleth, aside from the headpiece he wore. A gold wreath wrapped around the back of his head, beads shone in the sun as they cascaded down the back and side of his head. Two lilies, much like the ones Rhea wore, decorated right above his ears.

Effectively hiding them from sight.

Byleth turned to him first, as he stepped from the shadow of the hall into sunlight. His eyes widened, and Dimitri couldn't help the smile he knew crossed his lips. He had surprised him. 

Byleth closed the distance between them, and pressed his forehead against his arm, “Dimitri, you're here.”

“I am, Beloved,” He wrapped his arms around the man and allowed himself to bring Byleth in for a brief hug before releasing him.

He grunted when a weight pressed against his ribs, and he found Flayn burying her face into the blue of his cloak, “Dimitri! You didn't tell us you were coming!”

Dimitri patted her back, “I wrote your uh- Brother. I did not realize he would have kept a secret from you as well.”

She snorted, but remained attached to him, Dimitri allowed it. He attempted the vague motion of a bow to Lady Rhea and Seteth, both thoroughly amused by the reactions thus far, no doubt.

“Welcome back, Dimitri,” Seteth chuckled, Dimitri could not help but feel honored the man felt at ease enough with him to allow his daughter to hang off of him as she did, “I take everything went well?”

“Yes, yes it did. I will need some time to prepare everything, but… yes.”

Seteth nodded, Rhea beamed and clapped her hands together, “Oh this is so exciting! I’ve never seen a human’s pro-”

Seteth nearly pushed his sister from the balcony in his rush to keep her from speaking further, “Quiet!”

Rhea smacked at Seteth’s head, though he remained firm on keeping a hand over her mouth. 

Dimitri figured now would be a good time to elegantly guide Byleth away from Rhea before she ruined the surprise, so he placed a hand on the small of his lover’s back, “I have not enjoyed tea in a while, would you like to have a cup?”

“Keeping me from finding out what she was going to say?”

Dimitri chuckled, “Yes, absolutely.”

Byleth nodded, “Let us go to the greenhouse then, and… Flayn, do you want to come as well?”

“Yes please.”

“I will prepare the tea and snacks,” Without a further word, Byleth swept from the balcony and down the stairs.

After a tense beat, Seteth released the former Archbishop, and got hit in the back of the head for it, “What was that for!”

“It is  _ supposed _ to be a surprise,” Seteth seethed, then rubbed the area she had whacked him.

“Ah, I understand,” Rhea pressed a delicate nail to her chin, “It will be hard to keep Byleth away from you whilst you prepare.”

Dimitri figured with his duties, Byleth would be rather busy. He certainly wouldn't have time to follow Dimitri around, “Well, I am sure his position requires much of his time.”

Rhea snorted, a sound he didn't think he had heard her make before, “Please, he is excellent at avoiding his job as it is, with motivation like  _ you? _ We won't see him for the rest of your visit.”

Dimitri was torn between laughing, and feeling so very warm. He knew Byleth shared his feelings, obviously, yet to hear it so blatantly from another? It assured Dimitri he was not projecting his own emotions onto the man, Byleth really did love him as he did.

Flayn left his side, releasing her hold on him, “Well everyone else is coming, yes? I’m sure he’d be busy with all his other former students coming to visit!”

Dimitri blinked, “Everyone else?”

“Oh yes! Claude will be here any day now, and so will Hilda and Lorenz, Caspar wrote that he, Dorothea, Lindhardt, and Petra would all be coming to say hello too! And even Ferdinand, he’ll be visiting too.”

He certainly had not been made aware others would be visiting. What reason would they have to come? It wasn't Byleth’s birthday, that had passed when Byleth had been gone. Nothing important was happening in late Horsebow Moon to his knowledge.

His confusion must have shown on his face, as Flayn found it imperative to speak up once more, “They’re coming for you two, Little Brother. Everyone is so excited for you, they all want to come and support you the best way they can! You mean a lot to many people, Dimitri.”

“I… Huh. Thank you, Flayn.”

She shrugged, “It was not my idea, though I wholly support it!”

Seteth coughed into his fist before Dimitri had a chance to unpack her sentence, “Do you really think it is wise to keep Byleth waiting much longer?”

“Oh! Yes, right, of course. Excuse me, Seteth, Rhea,” Dimitri bowed properly now that Flayn no longer hung off of him, then turned and made his way down the stairs. Flayn followed on his heels, giggling the entire walk to the greenhouse.

Apparently one could take the skin of a fish and cook it into a chip-like treat. It smelled rather horrid, though Flayn had been absolutely delighted when Byleth pushed a small plate of them in her direction. The chamomile drowned out the scent, as did the gentle glow of forget-me-nots as sun danced through the greenhouse windows.

* * *

True to what Flayn had said, the very next day, the monastery went from a comforting rumble of activity to a cacophony of chaos as the former students descended upon Garreg Mach as lions did their prey. He stood beside Byleth as the merry band of misfits from all walks of life spilled through the gate, the man had been beside himself with joy. He didn't show it, yet the way his eyes lit up as each of his former students poured into the academy, spoke louder than any word.

They were swarmed, Dimitri worried Byleth would suffocate under all the attention, though one glimpse at the man’s face assured him that Byleth was perfectly content, basking in the attention of those he loved. 

Somehow, there had been an unspoken goal between everyone, and that was to keep Byleth as far away from Dimitri as possible. Dimitri took the chance to prepare the Goddess Tower for his proposal.

Flayn dusted her hands on her dress, “Can I see the cloak? I heard about it from Brother.”

Dimitri pulled the black cloak from the satchel he had stored it in, unfurled it, and held it up for Flayn to see. Her eyes widened and she jumped in place, clapping her hands in sheer delight, “Oh it is gorgeous! I can not wait to learn of Byleth’s reaction!”

She paused, her expression became thoughtful, then she grinned once more, “He’s going to cry.”

Alarm spiked in Dimitri’s veins, “Is it that bad?”

“What? Oh! No, no. He is going to cry happy tears, I just know it.”

“You… think so?”

“I  _ know _ so, if he does you better tell me!”

Dimitri chuckled and folded the cloak back up, storing it away in the leather once more, to keep it safe and out of sight, “I will do no such thing.”

“Boo.”

Dimitri ignored her pouting in favor of setting the last chair they carried down. Tea had been something Byleth often used to reach out to others, his attempts at talking, even in the early days as a professor. He thought, in a way, proposing to him over tea would maybe harkon back to that. 

Plus, he finally found the flavor of tea Byleth actually preferred, after much digging, and planned to surprise him by sharing tea he loved for once. The table was simple, white like ones down in the garden were. Dimitri had considered bringing one of the more decorated tables from an office up instead, but that felt like too much. Byleth had shared many cups of tea over this very table, it felt right to use this one over a more classically elegant one.

In the center of the table stood a bouquet of flowers Ignatz had prepared. He had attempted to explain the meanings of each one, and why their colors contrasted perfectly for the occasion, but it was lost upon Dimitri. It looked pretty and smelled nice, Byleth would love it, no doubt.

Steps alarmed Dimitri, he nearly tossed his cloak over the table to hide it from view, in case Byleth had been the one coming up. Though when heads of white and warm brown peeked over the railing, Dimitri relaxed. Mercedes and Dedue each carried a tray. Dedue had empty plates and a small stand for baked goods he had learned Byleth enjoyed, Mercedes had the tea set.

“Do you plan on proposing tonight?” Mercedes inquired as she placed the cups and kettle upon the table. It was empty, but Dimitri would fill it just before Byleth would arrive.

“No, too late. I will propose to him tomorrow evening.”

“Oh good, he found his tea table missing and was quite irritated by it.”

Dimitri had not considered Byleth would miss his table, he hoped he had not caused him undue stress. 

“Oh, perhaps I should have waited until tomorrow to bring it up,” He mused, brows furrowed.

“Probably,” Mercedes giggled, “Do not fret though, he will not go looking for it.”

“Good, but, why?”

“Caspar, Raphael, and Claude claimed they broke it arm wrestling.”

That was a ridiculous lie, there was no way Byleth believed them.

“He was so mad, why, he scolded them like he used to when he was still our professor!” Mercedes laughed, light and airy, “You should have seen their faces. They all had to retire to their rooms for the rest of the night like children!”

He supposed Byleth wouldn’t have considered his former students would ever lie to him.

“I hope he will not be mad at me for taking the table,” Dimitri pondered, eyeing the white set with a new sense of dread. Perhaps he should have gone with the carved wood instead.

“Do not be silly, he will be happy to see it. I do not believe he could ever be mad at you for something like that anyway.”

Dimitri chuckled, “I pray that is the case.”

Dedue set down the plates, “Relax, you will do fine.”

“I know, I know. It is… Nerve wracking all the same though, what if he says no?”

The three of them turned to face him, their expressions varying between annoyed, appalled, and incredulous.

“You're joking,” Dedue stated, Dimitri feared if his brows rose any further they’d fly off his face, “You are joking, yes?”

Dimitri wasn't sure how exactly to respond, so he didn't. Dedue sighed and shook his head, “He adores you, Dimitri. He will not turn you down, were you not the one who told me Byleth found your marriage traditions strange, and had simply wanted to be done with it?”

He had a point. Byleth had been ready to be formally married months ago, of course he would still want to now. He was being foolish, yet his mind still raced. He feared the worst, though he tried to keep such thoughts from his mind.

“Alright, the rest will be finished tomorrow. Flayn, could you pass on to keep Byleth from the dining area tomorrow afternoon?”

“Of course! We will make sure he does not step a single foot in there.”

Dimitri could not help but wonder how that would play out, few things motivated his Beloved as food did. He planned to be as swift as possible when he and Dedue baked the food they’d eat when the sun began to set. Hopefully the hour or two it’d take to cook everything would not be enough to irritate Byleth too much.

Dedue clasped his shoulder in a firm grip, “You’ll do fine.”

“I know.”

* * *

The tea was already steeping in the pot, food laid out upon the tray and two plates, the flowers Ignatz arranged still looked wonderful. Everything was perfect. All that was missing, was Byleth himself.

Dimitri set the last of three candles down on the table, all lit, their flames cast the tower in a warm orange glow. From where he had set the table, they’d be able to watch the sunset over the horizon. His hands shook.

Everything would be fine, he knew that. He did, genuinely. Yet his mind would not cease it’s incessant chatter, the ‘what ifs’ and scolding of ghosts long past, reminding him of what he’s done. How could he be worthy of Byleth’s love?

But love isn't something one had to be worthy of to have, he knew that. Byleth loved him back, and that was all that mattered. 

Still, as the time grew ever closer, he could not shake the tremors assaulting his body.

Dimitri was not sure how long had passed until he heard the click of boots upon stone steps. He drew in a steadying breath, and adjusted the braid in his hair (Flayn did it for him again, and was far more gentle), he hoped he looked presentable. 

It had been some time since he had worn truly formal attire, his coronation was the last he could remember. The jacket he wore was similar in its militaristic cut, though far more embellished with embroidery, and gold buttons that streamed down just left of the center of his chest. The jacket itself was a deep blue, and decorative patterns of the Blaiddyd crest and griffins were hand stitched in gold.

The suit had been his father’s, he was told.

He thumbed the cufflink when pale hair appeared from the staircase, Byleth paused the moment his eyes met Dimitri’s. The man hesitated, but finished rising the stairs, his steps no longer made a sound, cautious. 

Byleth’s narrow pupils darted over the scene, Dimitri didn't dare breathe, lest he startle the man. 

The silence broke when Byleth's calm voice filled the air, “I should have dressed better, it seems.”

Dimitri laughed, and the tension dissipated, “Do not worry, this was meant as a surprise.”

While not spoken aloud, Dimitri found Byleth’s attire as the Archbishop plenty formal. He did wonder what Byleth would have considered ‘better’ dressed than the elegant robe and belt he wore, though. 

He extended a white gloved hand, and bowed, “May I?”

Byleth placed a hand in his own wordlessly. Dimitri guided him to the table, pulled out a chair with his foot, and gestured for the man to take a seat. When he settled, Dimitri poured him a cup of tea, then took his place on the opposite side of the table.

Scarred hands wrapped around the floral cup, and Byleth brought the tea to his mouth, though hesitated with furrowed brows, “... This isn't chamomile.”

Of  _ all _ things around him to comment on, Dimitri couldn't help but chuckle the choice of tea was what first drew his attention.

“Yes, it's a floral Oasis blend, I have it on good authority it is your favorite flavor.”

Byleth stared at the tea, Dimitri couldn't tell what his expression meant, it was so carefully neutral. Was he wrong? He trusted Claude to get information, perhaps there had been a mixup though? Dimitri tried not to panic, and let Byleth have time to digest the information.

Sure enough, after a heavy pause, Byleth took a sip… And smiled.

“Yes, it is. How did you find out?”

“Claude.”

Byleth hummed, “Ah. I’ve never seen it sold by vendors here, where did you get it?”

“Took a bit of digging, but I found a vendor not too far from Enbarr that had some.”

Dimitri couldn't taste the tea, but he could smell it. Scents like roses, honey, oranges, and something he couldn't quite identify wafted from the tea. It had been a bit expensive, not that it mattered to him, of course, though he wondered how Byleth got his hands on such an apparently rare blend.

“Makes sense, I first had it when I was young after my father was on a mission south. He was gifted it, I think, by a villager he had saved. He gave it to me, and when I first brewed it, I had brought it to Jeralt to taste. I burnt the tea horribly then, it was my first memory of him laughing at me. He showed me how to brew tea properly then, and it became something we bonded over.” 

Byleth’s smile became bittersweet, “I love the tea because it reminds me of how happy my father would be when I’d go out of my way to brew him some. I… I didn't know how to connect with him then, and this became a way I could.”

Dimitri reached over the table and placed his hand over the one not holding the cup to his lips, Byleth intertwined their fingers. No words were spoken, none needed to be. Despite everything tasting the same, he couldn't help but enjoy himself as Byleth eagerly helped himself to the food before them. Watching his expression change with each new bite of food was as adorable as it was heartwarming. He was so glad Dedue helped him bake.

The sun began to set proper, the sky painted in purple, orange, and pink. The colors reflected off Byleth’s hair in a myriad of colors, their hands still clasped together, Dimitri ran his thumb along Byleth’s.

“Thank you,” Byleth’s voice was so soft, so tender, “For all of this, I… No one has ever done something like this before for me.”

Dimitri vowed he’d change that immediately. For all the deeds he selflessly did for others, Byleth deserved to be treated just the same. 

“You are welcome, Byleth, I’m relieved you are enjoying yourself.”

Byleth tilted his head, “What is the occasion?”

Ever the astute one, his Beloved was. 

Dimitri released his hand and stood, he retrieved the leather bag that held his gift, and presented it to Byleth. Wordlessly, the man rose as well and took it. He turned the parcel over, then opened the leather flap. With care byleth only reserved for those he cherished, Byleth slowly pulled the cloak from the bag, and set the leather aside upon the table.

Tension and anxiety coiled in Dimitri’s gut when the cloak unfurled. Byleth’s eyes widened, he turned the garment over in his hands, handling it the way one would a child. Dimitri had never seen Byleth’s hands tremor before, yet, as his fingers traced over the embroidered dragon just under the hood, there was a subtle shake to them. He lifted the end of the cloak up, his thumb ran along the flowers decorating the hem. 

When his eyes rose to meet Dimitri, the man was shocked to see how glossy they were. 

“Wh… What is this?” Byleth inquired, his voice warbled in a way that broke Dimitri’s heart.

He retrieved the cloak from him and swung it around his shoulders, “It's for you, I-I made it for you.”

Dimitri’s hands shook as he clasped the cloak shut, it fit Byleth perfectly. 

“You made this?”

“I had some help,” Dimitri laughed, “But yes. Each stitch is my own. Mercedes helped me plan the patterning, Annette helped with sewing the leather, Seteth gave me the design for the dragon.”

Byleth’s hands darted out to grab his own, they were warm.

“You made this… for _me?_ ”

Dimitri did not like the implications of Byleth’s shock, and nodded firmly, “Yes. I made this exclusively for you.”

Byleth stood there, silent. He did not move, did not speak, if Dimitri did not know better, he’d be worried the man no longer breathed. He was still, completely shocked silent.

With great care, he peeled his hands away from Byleth’s own, “This is not all I have for you.”

Dimitri tried to keep his hands from shaking so violently, but his body saw it fit to betray him when he reached into his pocket, and produced a single silver ring. The center had a single emerald, it had once belonged to his birth mother. The very same ring his father had given to her, for his own proposal.

“I… I had planned so very many things to say. But they are lost upon me now,” Dimitri chuckled, “I love you Byleth, with all of my heart. You found a broken animal of a man here, in this very room, and reached out to him. You may not know it, but you saved me then. 

“You remained by my side despite how I acted, how I treated you. Yet you never wavered, never let my demons get the better of me, you were the guiding light that brought me back, brought me  _ hope. _ Your kindness is unparalleled, both in how you treat me and those around you. You care so much for others, you try so, so hard, to help those in need. You always take time to take care of others, so I ask, if for once, you could let someone take care of you. 

“For the rest of my life, I would want nothing more than to be by your side, no matter where your future takes you. Allow me to be there for you when you are scared, let me help you and care for you, as you do to others. In return, I hope you would continue to watch over me, and… And if it suits you, I would love to marry you.”

Byleth did not speak, but held his hand out, and Dimitri warbled a weak laugh. He flipped his hand over and attempted to slide the ring on, yet it seemed the Goddess herself scoffed upon him, as he realized, the ring had been bent between his fingers. Pinched from his crest flairing, and Dimitri not even realizing it.

He stared at the ring, after all of that. It had been perfect! He had done  _ so _ well, it was ruined. How could he have been so careless _ how- _

“I’ll find leather and wear it around my neck,” Byleth spoke, “Like you do.”

Dimitri was stunned when Byleth took the ring from him without another word, and closed the distance between them, resting his forehead on Dimitri’s chest. His heart felt as though it would burst. He wrapped his arms around Byleth and buried his face in the fur of his cloak, it was then, he noticed the slight tremors in Byleth’s shoulders.

He pulled back, and peeled Byleth from his chest, his face was red and fat tears rolled down his face. The man ducked his head, an attempt to hide his tears no doubt, though Dimitri grabbed his chin and tilted it up to meet his eye. 

“Why are you crying, Byleth?”

“I-I don't know,” He hiccuped, “I’m happy, I promise.”

Dimitri pulled him in for another hug, and let the tears wet the front of his coat, he couldn't care less. He took a page from Byleth’s book and slowly rubbed circles into his back, his cheek rested upon his head.

“Will you be my husband?” Dimitri knew the answer, but he selfishly wanted to hear Byleth verbally confirm it.

“Yes,” Byleth sniffled, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Dimitri would absolutely not be telling Flayn she had been right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HECK THIS WAS A BEAST OF A CHAPTER. And I didnt even fit all I wanted to in it. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed! Also thank you again for all your support on the last chapter, I loved reading all the comments! They really made my week and kept me hella motivated to power through this beast.
> 
> Next chapter things are going to happen for sure, since this monster is 32 pages long as it is, I figured I wouldn't be able to fit much more in this bad boy.
> 
> Anyway! Here is my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/vulturepops) and [Tumblr](https://disastergays.tumblr.com/) if you want to come scream with me or somthin.


	12. A Promise Twice Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fantastic! I am so happy for you both, nobody will be surprised, but I am sure we can have a celebration nonetheless,” Ashe paused, and leaned forward, his eyes scanned the room, then returned to Dimitri, “Where is the Professor?”
> 
> “Sleeping, I thought—ah, that it would be polite to get him some breakfast.”
> 
> Dedue snorted into his tea, and Dimitri glared at him.

When Byleth stopped shaking, Dimitri ducked his head down and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Byleth laughed, soft, but as far as he could tell, content. He pulled back just enough to see his face, then swooped down once more to kiss Byleth's smile. It did not take long for the affection to deepen, memories of Byleth sprawled beneath him surfaced.

Dimitri would like to do that again. 

He lifted Byleth with an arm, careful not to let their mouths part, and pressed the man against one of the pillars. 

He pulled back just enough to speak, “M-May we take this to your room?”

Byleth snorted, “ _ Our _ room, and yes, please.”

Dimitri enjoyed the implication behind calling them room theirs, and wasted no time adjusting his hold on Byleth. He carried the man down the stairs, though hesitated as he reached the bridge that led back to the cathedral. He did not think Byleth would enjoy the undue attention he would receive, being carried as a maiden would be upon her wedding night.

He must have hesitated too long, as Byleth found it fit to squirm from his arms and drop to the ground. 

“Ah- sorry, I was just-”

Dimitri’s apologies were cut off when he no longer could feel his own feet against the ground.

“ _ Byleth! _ ”

His Beloved ignored him, and continued their walk directly through the cathedral. It must have made for quite the sight, the Archbishop carrying the King over his shoulder akin to a fresh kill. The looks they received as they walked along the wall of the cathedral were damn embarrassing, yet Byleth did not falter in his step once. 

Dimitri, resigned to his fate, did what he could to hide his face in Byleth’s cloak. It was indeed warm, he was glad.

“Way to go, Teach!” A voice undoubtedly belonging to Claude whistled as they passed across the main bridge. Dimitri lifted his head enough to level him with an even glare, from where he flew just above them. 

The man did not even have the decency to look apologetic, and instead just laughed, “It is hard to find you intimidating like that,  _ Your Kingliness. _ ”

“Claude, go away,” Byleth’s voice was even, but stern.

“You got it Teach, have fun!” Without any further goading, the man took off further into the sky.

“You make it look so easy,” Dimitri grumbled into the wool of Byleth’s back, the man hummed in response.

The rest of the trip they faced no one else, simply the trek up the stairs. Dimitri was no fool, by the time they reached the third floor, he could hear how winded Byleth was. It had been impressive enough he could lift him, let alone carry him across Garreg Mach and up two flights of stairs.

“You did not have to carry me.”

“It was… My turn.”

Dimitri did not know how to respond to such a statement, and instead, pushed on Byleth’s shoulder just enough for the man to release his hold on him and place his feet back on solid ground. As soon as he was, he slung Byleth over  _ his _ shoulder, much to the man’s dismay given the groan that escaped his lips.

He pushed the door open, and eased it shut behind him, locking it for good measure. Byleth always was in high demand, especially given how many of their friends were visiting, and Dimitri had no desire to be interrupted. He removed his gloves first, Byleth did not squirm so Dimitri simply kept him over his shoulder while he also kicked off his boots.

“This is ridiculous,” Byleth muttered, his head arched back just enough to watch him unbutton his jacket.

“My turn,” Dimitri parroted, “Besides, you are far from heavy.”

Byleth scoffed.

Dimitri did set the man down when he found it rather hard to undress with him there, and finished shucking his jacket and undershirt off. He hesitated at his belt when he noticed Byleth was still fully clothed, eyes watching his every move with an unreadable expression.

“... Byleth?”

The man blinked at his name, and moved his gaze from Dimitri’s hands ( _ was _ he looking at his hands?) to his face, “Yes?”

“You… You can undress too, uh, if you’d like? We don't have to do anything if you don't want-”

Byleth kicked his boots off and slid his pants down to his ankles without another word, he stepped out of them, then leveled Dimitri with an unimpressed stare.

“I want.”

Dimitri was drawn between being aroused at seeing his love pantless before him, and laughing at the absurdity of the  _ Archbishop _ fully clothed other than pants and shoes, golden wreath and all. He left his pants alone in favor of removing Byleth’s headpiece, and setting it upon his desk.

Next, Dimitri pulled at the sash around Byleth’s abdomen, unfurling it from him and tossing it over the back of his chair. Then he pushed his robe from his shoulders, and folded the white and gold garment up to be set upon the desk with the golden crown. All that remained was the cloak.

There was something so primally exciting about seeing Byleth clad in only the cloak Dimitri had crafted for him. Perhaps it was how content the man seemed to be, wearing it, knowing Dimitri could provide for him. Regardless, Dimitri did not bother taking the cloak off as he lifted Byleth again and eased him down upon the bed.

“Dimitri no, we are  _ not _ having sex on this.”

Dimitri froze.

Byleth sat up and shrugged the cloak from his shoulders, then carefully pulled it from beneath him and placed it over his nightstand, and the book resting upon it. He laid back down then, though after a moment of silence, lifted himself upon his elbows, a furrow gracing his brows.

“Dimitri?”

“Y-yes?”

Byleth sat up fully, and tucked his legs beneath him to get enough height to meet Dimitri’s eye, “Are you alright?”

“I… yes. I just… I didn't think we- I thought we’d just do what we did last time.”

Byleth tilted his head, then, after a moment, realization dawned upon his features. Though within a moment, the understanding shifted to confusion, “Why? Is now not when we would have sex?”

Dimitri chuckled, the only sound he could manage other than a nervous wheeze as he regained his ability to speak proper, “There isn't a set time we have to have sex, you know.”

“Ah.”

“Besides, I don't think… I do not know if that would be a good idea.”

Byleth sat back on his heels, “Why not?”

“I’m not very good at controlling my strength, I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you in the heat of the moment.”

“You wouldn't hurt me.”

“Byleth you are so strong, but I can still hurt you. If I hold you too tightly, or move you too suddenly, even without trying to, I could… I could really hurt you.”

“I never said you couldn't, I said you  _ wouldn’t. _ As in, yes, you are powerful and your crest can flair at inopportune times, but I trust you, and I know you would not hurt me.”

Dimitri wanted to shout at him, tell him how wrong he was, he had broken lances, plates, hell, he nearly broke the very ring he planned to have Byleth wear upon his finger! Byleth may not have been human, but Dimitri knew he still felt pain, still could break bones, tear ligaments. Dimitri could  _ so _ easily break Byleth’s leg just by grabbing it.

He had crushed men’s skulls with a single hand.

Byleth was incredible, he adored the man, and that was why he was so scared of hurting him during such an intimate act. What if Byleth became frightened of him? What if Byleth’s bad leg got injured again, could it be fixed? What if he was too rough, and scared Byleth off from being intimate with him ever again?

“Dima.”

As a beacon from his spiraling thoughts, Dimitri snapped to the present at the sound of Byleth’s voice. He had… He had never called him ‘Dima’ before.

Byleth seemed to have sensed Dimitri no longer was spiraling in his own mind, and placed a hand over his own, “I will not be upset if we don’t have sex because you don’t want to, Dimitri,  _ ever. _ But if you  _ do _ want to, and you’re keeping yourself back because of some  _ stupid _ notion you break everything you touch, we will have a problem.”

Dimitri could not meet Byleth’s gaze, and instead looked off to where Byleth’s clothes were neatly piled upon his desk. The hand upon his own intertwined their fingers, and Dimitri stole a steadying breath, then let it out, “There are no words for how much I desire you,  _ have _ desired you for years. But I… I am scared. I have never been intimate with anyone before you, never truly desired to be. If I hurt you, I do not think I could ever forgive myself.”

Byleth’s thumb ran along his knuckles, but Dimitri kept his gaze away, he worried he’d lose nerve if he looked the man in the eye. After a moment, Byleth filled the silence, “Do you trust me?”

What an odd question, Dimitri turned back to face him. Byleth’s expression was neutral, carefully so, it seemed. Dimitri reached for Byleth’s other hand and brought his knuckles to his lips, “Of course I do, Beloved. But I don't understand what-”

“Then trust in my trust of you. If I believed you were truly a danger, I would not have agreed to be with you, much less marry you.”

He had nothing to say to that, no response laid upon his tongue. Dimitri just stared at Byleth, stared at the man he loved above all else. 

Dimitri couldn't hold his eye longer than a couple moments, and looked down at the white sheets beneath them, “I… Alright. Promise me, if I do anything that hurts you, even just a little, you tell me right away. Alright? The  _ moment _ you ask me to stop I will, no questions asked, ok?”

Warmth ran along his jaw when Byleth’s hand pulled from his own to grace his skin, and tilted his head up to meet Byleth’s beautiful gaze, “Ok.”

Byleth’s smile was small, but it never ceased to melt Dimitri’s heart. He closed his eyes to lean into the warmth of his love’s hand for a moment, then eased himself close enough to press a chaste kiss upon his lips. Byleth’s hand moved from his jaw, to his shoulder, and Dimitri placed a hand on the small of Byleth’s back, both to keep him near, and supply support as he eased the man back down.

Dimitri settled between Byleth’s spread legs, and pulled his calves to rest upon his thighs. The kiss deepened, Dimitri’s tongue explored the warmth of Byleth’s mouth, his teeth were sharper now, he noted. 

Byleth slung his other arm around his neck and pulled him closer, the skin of their chests touched. He was so warm. Dimitri rested his hands on Byleth’s bare hips, though took care not to grip them too hard in fear of harming his lover. It also helped keep his hips steady when he tried to grind himself against him.

Byleth pulled back, their pants the only sound between them, he pressed a soft kiss to Dimitri’s jaw. 

When the man settled down against the pillows, Dimitri dove back in and peppered kisses along Byleth’s neck and collarbones. He was tempted to bite him, leave a hickey or two, but he stopped himself before he actually acted on the urge. Dimitri didn't imagine Byleth would be a fan of the attention he’d get with bruises on his neck, and Dimitri did not want to bite him too hard or accidently draw blood.

His mouth trailed further down, he tongued over a pert nipple, Byleth’s quiet moan was decadent. Dimitri continued paying his chest attention while his hand slid between them to brush over Byleth’s labia. He was wet, but Dimitri did not think he was wet enough. 

He pulled back, “Oil. We need oil.”

Byleth grunted, and nodded to his nightstand, “Some in the drawer.”

Dimitri pulled back just enough to reach over and pull a partially used bottle from the side table. He had not imagined Byleth as one to really masturbate, well not  _ seriously, _ he certainly had fantasies about it though.

“I tried fingering myself a couple days ago,” Byleth spoke, as if answering Dimitri’s unspoken curiosity.

The mere thought of Byleth laying alone in his bed, pushing his fingers inside himself whilst thinking of him, was absolutely delightful. 

“Tried?”

“Didn't like it much.”

Dimitri chuckled, “You probably won't like it if I do, then.”

“It's you,” He shrugged, “It’ll be different. I will tell you if I do not like it, though.”

Dimitri nodded, then hesitated again, sitting back on his knees, “Have you… um… Had intercourse before?”

“No.”

Just like that, Dimitri’s nerves were back in full force. This was supposed to be  _ special, _ right? Maybe he should wait, maybe after they wed? His apprehension must have shown on his face and Byleth rose up to meet his eye with a slight frown.

“Dima, do you want to stop?”

“I… No, but I- It is your first time, it should be-”

“I have not been ‘saving’ myself,” Byleth snorted, “I simply did not want to have sex until I grew close to you. Sex is sex, I do not see it as some special event.”

Dimitri swallowed his fears, and nodded, “Right, ok. I’ll be sure to be extra careful though, I don't want to hurt you.”

Byleth made a show of rolling his eyes, despite the small smile that rested upon his lips, and flopped back down on the sheets, “Very well.”

He chased the man down and kissed him again, Dimitri wished he could taste. He wished he could taste Byleth’s mouth, his skin, his sex. Still, the gentle sounds he made fed his appetite plenty. He poured a bit of the oil over his fingers and corked the glass to be set aside for later. His hand trailed down between Byleth’s legs again, rubbing over his soft mound, and massaging his cock.

Byleth’s hips lifted to meet his hand, and Dimitri chuckled into the kiss.

Dimitri trailed his index finger down and slowly, carefully, eased a finger in. He was so warm. After a moment, he pulled back from Byleth to meet his eyes, “Alright?”

“Odd.”

“Bad odd?”

Byleth rolled his hips against his finger, Dimitri pressed his thumb to Byleth’s cock, and the man’s breath hitched. 

“No. Good, I think.”

Dimitri nodded and eased the finger out, and pushed it back in. He did that motion a couple more times, then added a second finger. He could feel the stretch of Byleth’s walls around him, he made sure not to make any sudden or forceful movements. 

If his crest flared now he’d fucking off himself.

Dimitri added more oil, and continued the gentle thrusting of his fingers, he worked to stretch him out a bit, and curled his fingers just enough for Byleth’s whole body to jolt. He froze immediately, “You alright?”

“Y-yes, do it again.”

He did, and the sweetest sound escaped Byleth. He would certainly be keeping  _ that _ in mind. Dimitri, his confidence risen, leant back down to mouth at Byleth’s chest as he eased his digits in and out of him, occasionally curling them just right to earn a moan from his love.

He added a third finger when he no longer felt Byleth grip him as a vice. The man grunted a little, and Dimitri glanced up from his chest to his face. His cheeks were red, as were his ears, and his eyes were closed, shallow pants escaped his mouth.

“You alright?”

“Yes, it is… Uncomfortable, but does not hurt.”

“Do you want me to stop? Go back to two?”

“No.”

Dimitri obeyed, and continued working him open with the three fingers, his thumb rubbed his cock, that seemed to ease the discomfort. Or at least distract him from it, as he started moaning again once he did. It was fascinating, learning Byleth’s body like this. Each reaction he gave, the way he bit his lip when Dimitri moved just right, the  _ noises _ he made… All were a delight to observe. 

He debated on adding a fourth finger when a hand on his own stopped all movement, “That's enough, I’m ready.”

When Dimitri hesitated, Byleth ran his knuckles along Dimitri’s cheek, “I will tell you if it is too much.”

Comforted, Dimitri eased his fingers from Byleth, and wasted no further time kicking his own pants off. They were tossed somewhere behind him, he did not bother to look where. He used the mixture of oil and Byleth’s arousal to slick up his own cock. He added a bit more oil, just to be safe, and resettled between Byleth’s slender legs.

“Wait,” Dimitri paused, “Can you, um… That is to say is it possible that you, uh, I should get some protection-”

“I can not get pregnant,” Byleth stated, “Infertile.”

Dimitri was unsure how to process that information, and instead ran his fingers along Byleth’s thighs, “I see, how did you find out?”

Byleth shrugged, “While ago, not that it mattered much to me then… I don't recall the details.”

“Ah… I’m sorry.”

“Does that… bother you?” The way Byleth’s voice lowered, how he tried to shrink away from his gaze, hurt Dimitri to his core.

He quickly gathered the man in his arms and peppered kisses all over his face and jaw, “No, no. Of course not, I didn't think we’d have children anyway.”

That seemed to ease Byleth’s concern, and he relaxed in his arms. Dimitri did not want to let go of him, so he eased them both down, and lifted Byleth’s hips to meet his own. Their lips met again, and Byleth arched his back to brush against his aching cock. 

Dimitri pulled back just enough to speak, “Tell me if you need me to stop, or it hurts, ok?”

Byleth pulled him down again for another kiss and nodded, his arms wrapped around his shoulders. Dimitri was painfully slow when he pressed into Byleth.

Even after using his fingers to work him open, the man was still so tight. He had to stop once he pushed the head in, he needed a moment to catch his breath. He  _ really _ did not want to end this so fast. Dimitri studied Byleth’s reactions as he continued to ease inside of him. 

Byleth’s lip was sucked between his teeth, and his ears splayed back. 

Dimitri stopped when he felt himself about halfway in, and panted out, “You alright?”

Byleth nodded.

He did not like that he was making Byleth uncomfortable, so he used one hand to thumb over Byleth’s dick, he  _ felt _ Byleth’s pleasure as his breath hitched. Dimitri used that to his advantage, he continued rubbing the nub, gentle, as he eased himself in until their hips were flush. Byleth felt indescribable. He thought his  _ mouth _ felt amazing, yet this was a whole other level.

Dimitri trailed kisses up Byleth’s neck as he sat inside him, while the man didn't seem tense, Dimitri was going to give him a chance to adjust before he moved any further. Byleth hummed, and seemed to enjoy the attention regardless, turning his head to expose more of his skin. 

Dimitri nipped at his collarbone, careful not to leave a mark, then moved back up to his lips. Their tongues danced together until Byleth pulled away, and shifted beneath him, “You can move.”

He nodded, and their lips clashed once more, Dimitri eased out a touch, then back in. He was so worried about hurting Byleth if he got too carried away. Though given the way Byleth grunted and moved against him, perhaps he was being a bit  _ too _ careful. He pulled away, one arm beside Byleth’s head for support, the other held his hip in place, and actually began to thrust proper.

Byleth’s head fell back into the pillows, soft breaths pushed from his lips each time he bottomed out. He paused to adjust his angle, and pushed in again, pulling out the loudest sound he’s heard Byleth make so far. He repeated the motion, and the way Byleth shivered against him was delicious.

Dimitri took care to keep the angle and continued thrusting in earnest. Byleth’s moans were still far from loud, soft needy sounds, yet with each time he bottomed out, his voice rose just a touch more. Dimitri buried his face in his Beloved’s neck, and became lost in the smell and the feel of his lover.

Pine and smoke filled his senses, warmth and desire flooded his veins. The hand not holding Byleth curled into a fist, his joints popped at the force, he was getting close. 

Dimitri pulled Byleth’s hips up and almost folded his lover in half, so he could support Byleth with his own while his hand reached between them to rub his Beloved’s cock. Byleth tossed his head back and cried out in pleasure.

“D-Dima please-”

Dimitri rose from his neck to encapture Byleth into another kiss, he could feel the way Byleth’s muscles tensed against him, Dimitri’s own toes curled. He was certainly not going to last much longer, no matter how he tried.

“G-go ahead,” Dimitri panted against his lips, “I have you.”

Byleth curled closed to Dimitri, his sharp nails dug into the tender flesh of his back, his head tucked beneath Dimitri’s chin. Fire bubbled in his veins, a pressing sensation made itself known in his gut, he was so, so close. What finally did him in was seeing Byleth come undone beneath him, the way his head tossed back, his back arched, he was art in motion. 

Dimitri could only watch in awe until the force of his own orgasm hit him like a spear through his body. He shuddered as wave after wave assaulted his body, then, all was still. 

The only sound between him and Byleth was the heavy panting of their exhaustion. Byleth trembled, he could feel the way his legs strained to keep in the position they were. He pulled a hand from Byleth’s dick to his hip, and eased himself out, careful to support his Beloved as he lowered him back to the bed.

He brushed Byleth’s hair from his closed eyes, he was so unbelievably beautiful. How did he get so lucky? Dimitri pressed a chaste kiss upon Byleth’s lips, and rubbed circles against his hip with his thumb.

It took more time than Dimitri had expected for Byleth to open his eyes, though when they did, they were so dilated he could barely see the color of his iris. Warmth filled his chest at the sight of Byleth gazing up at him, as if he were a treasure, something special.

“I love you, so much,” Dimitri whispered, Byleth’s hands left his back to cradle his face and he smiled.

“As do I.”

Byleth had a private bath upstairs, he remembered. He rarely used it, as he preferred the bathhouse, for some reason. Still, it would serve well now. Dimitri slid from utop Byleth, despite Byleth’s irritated whine. He grabbed Byleth’s cloak, and wrapped his Beloved with it, then lifted him in his arms. 

Dimitri was only a bit surprised when Byleth put up no fight other than a snort when he carried him from the room. Perhaps he should put pants on? None other than Byleth lived on this floor, so if they saw him carrying Byleth naked, that was their problem, not his. 

The floor was empty, and Dimitri made it to the bath without incident. He moved Byleth to hold in one arm as he tested the temperature of the water currently in the tub. It was warm. Odd, but Dimitri did not question it. He knelt down and slid the cloak from Byleth’s nude form, and eased his lover into the water. 

Byleth flinched when he was set down, and Dimitri hesitated, “Are you alright?”

“Mhm, sore.”

Perhaps he had been too rough? Dimitri moved his hands to start massaging Byleth’s legs, “Sorry.”

“Don't apologize, I quite enjoyed myself.”

“Good,” Dimitri chuckled, and moved his hands to Byleth’s thighs, “I am glad. That was… I really enjoyed it too.”

Byleth closed his eyes again when his hands moved to his hips, Dimitri pulled back. His brows furrowed, and found a suspiciously hand-shaped bruise where he had been holding onto Byleth. 

“I’m so-”

“Don’t,” Byleth cut him off, and tugged him down for a kiss, “I’m fine.”

Dimitri still felt guilty, though he assured himself Byleth would have told him if it hurt. Instead, he decided to focus on cleaning him, he stood and rustled through the various vials of stuff Byleth had along the bathroom wall. He eventually came across something that smelled like soap, and brough that back to Byleth. 

“You don't have to do this,” Byleth stated.

“I know, I just… I want to.”

Byleth eyed him, then nodded once, “Then join me.”

Dimitri chuckled, but stood and stepped behind his lover all the same. The water was a bit warm for his tastes, yet it seemed the perfect temperature for Byleth. He wondered if the water was magically heated, or if there was some sort of mechanism to keep it warm. He set the soap aside and slid his hand down Byleth’s abdomen to the hair between his legs.

Byleth leant back against him, so Dimitri continued his hand further down. The moment his fingers brushed over Byleth’s cock, the man’s body shivered. Dimitri did not plan on trying to coax another orgasm out of his Beloved, though he definitely would enjoy potentially experimenting with that at a later time.

Instead he washed what he could of any sort of oil or cum left on him. Though when Byleth grabbed his hand and pulled it away from him, Dimitri did not fight it.

“Too much?”

“Yes, I am sensitive.”

Dimitri pressed a kiss to his neck and wrapped his arms around his ribcage, his chin hooked over his shoulder, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Choosing me, being with me… Being mine.”

Byleth kissed the side of his head, “No need for thanks. I am under no obligation to love you, I simply do. You are a wonderful man, Dimitri.”

“Could… You call me Dima, more often?”

Byleth rumbled a hum and settled back against him, he smelled of pine, smoke, and home.

“Yes,” He could feel his lover melt against his body, “Dima.”

* * *

The sun’s rays and the sound of wyverns and laughing eventually woke Dimitri up. Exhaustion still clung to his bones, though when he squinted at the window, he found the sun to have already begun it’s ascent into afternoon. Late morning, then.

He yawned, and would have sat up, if not for the head and arm thrown over his chest. Byleth had curled against him, quite literally, the man’s knees were drawn close to his chest, his ear rested over his heart, and the arm not slung around him had been tucked under his chin. It was so charmingly cat-like.

It was the first time Dimitri had seen Byleth asleep in a while. He was glad the man was resting easier than he had, no more late night trips through that cursed forest. Dimitri watched his even breaths, the soft snores escaping his lips were quiet, yet unmistakably there. Byleth’s mouth parted in his sleep, and he noticed, belatedly, Byleth had been drooling. There was a damp spot on the pillow beneath where his head once had been, and as he shifted, he could feel the sticky residue of dried saliva.

Dimitri prayed he could wake up to such a warm sight every morning for the rest of his life.

He brushed hair from Byleth’s face, the man did not stir. He must have been exhausted, then. An idea came to Dimitri, what better way to surprise his fiancé than breakfast in bed?

Careful not to disturb Byleth, he eased out from beneath his arm, Byleth growled something, and grabbed at the pillow Dimitri had been using, brought it to his chest, then settled down. Assured Byleth was not awake, Dimitri scoured the room for his pants. He probably should have paid attention to where he had tossed them last night.

He eventually found them near the door, and slid them on. Wearing his jacket was far too formal now, though he did not exactly have any other clothes. It would not look too strange for the king to be walking around in his undershirt, right?

Besides, it was not as if he planned to be from the room long, just enough to get food and drink.

Dimitri pulled the shirt over his head and stepped into his boots. He spared another glance to Byleth, still sound asleep, then slipped from the room.

By the time he had reached the stairs, Dimitri could already hear Garreg Mach was in full swing. Undoubtedly due to their friend's visit. He wondered how long they planned to stay.

He descended the staircases, then made a straight shot for the dining hall. 

It was rather crowded, he did not want to be gone long, still, he stifled a yawn and took his place in the line. The monk in front of him startled when he glanced over, and began trying to get him to stand in front of him—of course drawing the attention of the whole row. 

Dimitri was about ready to just leave and come back in a couple minutes, but a voice called to him, “Your Majesty!”

He smiled and retreated from the line to wander to the end of the table Dedue and Ashe ate at.

“Good morning!” Ashe chirped, “How did it go?”

Dimitri knew he was smiling, he could feel it, and rubbed the back of his head, “Fantastic. He is my fiancé officially, now.”

Dedue nodded, “Congratulations.”

“Fantastic! I am so happy for you both, nobody will be surprised, but I am sure we can have a celebration nonetheless,” Ashe paused, and leaned forward, his eyes scanned the room, then returned to Dimitri, “Where is the Professor?”

“Sleeping, I thought—ah, that it would be polite to get him some breakfast.”

Dedue snorted into his tea, and Dimitri glared at him. 

Ashe on the reverse side, only seemed confused for a moment, then, as if suddenly struck, his cheeks flushed and he looked down at his breakfast, “Oh, that explains the clothes.”

Dimitri didn't think he looked  _ that _ unkempt.

His hair didn't feel too disheveled, he had gone out looking worse, he was sure. 

“You do know people won't complain if you just duck in front to grab food for you and Byleth, then leave, right?”

“It is rude,” Dimitri frowned, “And here I am no different than any of you.”

Ashe leveled him with an unimpressed stare, and Dedue chuckled again.

“I am not going to keep people waiting even longer for food just because I feel privileged to get it first, that is nonsense,” Dimitri affirmed, partly to himself, but also to Ashe who simply had shrugged and smiled.

“That is very honorable of you, though I wouldn't take too long, our Professor has never been a morning person, and I do not imagine he’d take kindly to waking up alone.”

He had a point.

Dimitri swiftly stepped back in line. Thankfully, the wait was not long, and he had been able to get his and Byleth’s breakfast within 10 minutes. He wasted no time giving a polite nod to Dedue and Ashe, then darted from the dining hall back upstairs.

He managed to balance the tray on one hand, and opened the door to Byleth’s, no,  _ their _ bedroom. Dimitri closed it with his foot and froze, Byleth was sitting up, groggy, though clearly awake, and  _ clearly _ irritated.

Dimitri couldn't help but laugh at the glare he received under the mess of pale green hair. He carried the tray to the bed and leant down to kiss Byleth's cheek, Byleth grumbled, but did not move away.

“My apologies, I had hoped you’d be still asleep when I returned,” He offered the tray to Byleth, “I brought breakfast.”

The mention of food perked his Beloved up, and he made a grabbing motion for the food, Dimitri released it to him, and the man set it upon his blanketed legs. He scooted over, and patted the spot beside him, Dimitri took the invitation without question.

Byleth handed him a plate, and a cup of tea, “Thank you.”

“Thank you for getting food, I was alarmed when I awoke and you were gone.”

Dimitri’s brows furrowed, he remembered waking up and pancing when Byleth was not at his side more than once, fears of losing a loved one again plagued his mind. 

“My apologies, I can wake you the next time I do such a thing?”

Byleth nodded, “Please.”

That was that. They enjoyed the rest of their food in comfortable silence, until Byleth eventually broke it, “I am going on another trip in a couple days.”

“Trip?”

“It is straining to maintain this form long now,” He explained, and wrapped his fingers around his tea, “Like wearing clothes far too small. I can feel myself pushing on my body, trying to break out. Seteth assured me this is normal, and that as everything levels out, it will become easier. Still, this is uncomfortable.”

Dimitri did not quite understand, but he hummed his agreement anyway, “Forgive me if this is too forward but, do you think one day I may be able to join you on such a journey?”

Byleth’s ears perked, and Dimitri tried not to coo at the man, “Yes. Seteth begrudgingly agreed, but yes. Likely not this time, or the next? I am… Big, in the other form. It is hard to maneuver sometimes with so many new limbs. Until I am more used to it, I worry I will squish you.”

Imagining Byleth as being large enough to squish him was so unbelievably strange. The man often felt so small in his hands, though he did also recognize that he, himself, was rather tall; Dedue the only other he’s met that stood higher than he.

His mind wandered to the image in that book Byleth had taken, a massive four winged dragon. He wished the page had not been so sunbleached, so he could see more detail in the drawing. Dimitri was giddy at the thought of seeing Byleth’s draconic form, or, true form? Dimitri did not quite get the logistics of it, but it mattered none to him.

Instead, he inquired, “What do you look like? Other than the four wings?”

Byleth squinted at the door, his ears lowered a touch, then he spoke, “I have feathers, and scales, they are white, or mostly white. It is odd. I have horns as well. I have not properly seen myself in a mirror in truth, I have only seen vague reflections.”

Dimitri never did have the best imagination, picturing how Byleth appeared was hard. Still, it mattered little, he’d see what Byleth looked like one day, and he could wait until he had the honor to witness him first hand. He took Byleth’s free hand in his own, and intertwined their fingers.

* * *

Given Byleth would be leaving in just a few short days anyway, Dimitri decided to stay at Garreg Mach until his lover departed.

“Ah, there you are,” Dimitri paused his trip to the market when Claude’s voice rang out behind him.

He waited until the man was at his side before he continued walking, Claude easily fell in step beside him, “What can I do for you?”

Claude presented him with a scroll, Dimitri graciously accepted it and unfurled the paper. While it did not have a sender or recipient, he knew the tidy lettering before him was not Byleth’s hand. He didn't actually recognize the handwriting at a glance, though read through the message anyway.

_ ‘There is word on the location of the suspicious group of folks. My people kept their eyes out and have found bodies of a couple ones that belonged to the group, they all were ripped apart, and appeared to have been burnt. Something big attacked them, however the wounds are unlike anything we’ve seen to date, apparently. I will keep you updated if we find anything else.’ _

When he glanced from the scroll up to Claude, he was casual as ever. He perked when he noticed a new bow being sold at the weaponsmith, and trotted over to get a closer look. Dimitri rolled the scroll back up and tucked it away, he could take a well enough hint.

Act natural, pretend the scroll was nothing but a simple delivery. 

He passed Claude’s ogling, and paid for some chamomile at one of the food stands, he had been drinking it more often as of recently. Dimitri had a feeling he’d need it after the coming conversation he braced himself for. Areadbhar strapped to his back, he already set up a lunch with Rhea, he hoped he could get some answers.

* * *

Rhea’s room was different from the one she had used to reside in. The colors were muted and natural, deep greens and browns decorated the simple room. Despite its simplicity, there were many things tucked into every nook and cranny, Dimitri’s eye was drawn to a very old tapestry depicting five dragons, and who he presumed was the Goddess herself watching over them.

It was a far cry from the humble and minimalistic mask she put on even within her very own room. He wondered how much of a front she had to keep even within her own privacy when she had been the head of the church. He wondered why she felt the need to posture, when his Beloved made no attempts to.

Rhea gestured to the seat across the wooden table she had set. Dimitri vaguely remembered the scent of the tea, and knew the title of it was something moon related. He politely took her invitation and poured them both a cup, he could feel the thrum of the ancient relic beside him.

“What has brought this on?” Rhea inquired, without the flowers covering the sides of her head, Dimitri could plainly see her ears were pointed as Byleth’s were.

“I… Have some questions, that I hope you may have answers to.”

She nodded, and took a polite sip from her floral cup, “Ask away, I will answer what I can.”

“Are the relic’s alive?”

The woman froze, clearly she had not been expecting that. Slowly, she set her cup down, walls were up, and Dimitri could tell he’d have to fight to get the answers he needed.

“Of course not, they are weapons gifted to the ten elites by the goddess herself.”

“Why would the Goddess give humans the bodies of her children?”

Rhea’s eyes grew cold, “How do you know that information?”

“Byleth told me, the sword of the creator is his spine, and the stone is his heart.”

“What makes you think all relics are like that?”

Dimitri frowned at her, “I am not stupid. I have seen the way they move, how they twitch. I had always thought they were magic, until Byleth told me they once were the bodies of the Nabeteans.”

The woman before him sighed, and laced her thin fingers together upon her lap, “I see.”

Dimitri remained silent, he could see the confliction upon her features, even if her ears were completely still. He wondered if that came from practice of having them her whole life, or if they simply did not emote as Byleth’s did. After a moment, she took another breath and brought her drink to her lips.

“How much did he tell you of the Nabeteans?”

“Not much, he does not know a lot himself. I know there was a war, and… Many of your people were slaughtered by humans, that is why you must hide now.” 

She nodded, “Did he tell you the nature of the war?”

“No.”

Rhea placed the ceramic down upon the small plate and met his gaze, her eyes hardened as a soldier that had seen far too much death would be, “The relics are not alive, they may have been made with the bodies of my people, but they are dead and are simply fueled by the strength of the magic that flows within.”

“That's a lie,” Dimitri immediately countered, “I’ve seen how Areadbhar moves, it has mimicked my motions before, it seems to have wants. It became upset when I considered leaving it when I hunted a moose for Byleth.”

“Then why ask a question to something you already know?”

“I want to know why you allow people to hold these weapons? Why did Sothis  _ give _ them to the ten elites?”

A dry, bitter laugh escaped Rhea’s lips, her eyes narrowed enough that pupils were mere whispers within a storm of green, “They were not given, they were stolen. You know  _ nothing _ of what you ask. Do not waste my time with such questions, leave.”

Shocked at the sudden shift of attitude, Dimitri fought between staying and demanding answers, and leaving before Rhea grew too angry. He remained where he was, in the end, and frowned, “Then tell me what I do not know. Nothing is adding up, why would the heroes of Fódlan steal them, how were the weapons formed? Is there a way to reverse-”

The temperature in the room rose drastically, and a primal part of him recognized he was in grave danger. 

“If there were a way to reverse what  _ your _ people did to them, I would have found it hundreds of years ago.”

“ _ My  _ people? The humans?”

“No, the Ten Elites, those bastards that followed Nemesis to slaughter hundreds of innocent lives.”

“Nemesis was a hero, according to the very scripture you preach!”

“Would it  _ truly _ surprise you if all recorded history was a lie? Nothing but lies to save what little of my people remain still alive?”

Dimitri had nothing to say to that.

Rhea drew in a steadying breath, “This is a very painful topic for me, please, let it be. You know more than any other human does, let that be enough. Speak nothing of this to anyone else.”

He wanted nothing more than to demand further answers, yet, he recognized when one was at their limit well enough. Dimitri had been there many times, when berated on questions of the Duscur massacre. He could imagine the pain Rhea felt, recalling such horrid events. 

He wondered if Flayn had been alive then. Nothing else to say, Dimitri ducked his head and grabbed Areadbhar, “Very well. My apologies for causing you such grief.”

Rhea nodded once, then as he stood at the door, she spoke up once more, “Take care of Areadbhar, she had once been a dear friend to my mother.”

“What was her name then?”

“... Itzel.”

_ Itzel. _

Dimitri gave his regards, and left the woman to grieve in peace. He needed air.

The warmth and breeze he was met with the moment he stepped outside were refreshing, and eased the naustia that had begun to stir in his gut. He held Areadbhar, no,  _ Itzel, _ up and frowned. Sun bounced off the bones and stone within her core. 

“For what it is worth,” he murmured to the lance, and returned her to her place at his back, “I am sorry for what happened to you.”

A thrum of energy met him, then silence. Dimitri wondered if she was angry.

He couldn't deal with the swirling emotions beginning to rise, and instead, decided to search for Byleth. His presence often served as a calming balm to his demons. When he eventually tracked the man down, he was in the greenhouse with Dedue, tending to some Duscur flowers.

Byleth’s head rose when he approached, “Hello.”

Dedue glanced up when the man spoke, nodded his greeting, then returned to work.

Dimitri sat upon the stones that lined the edges of the soil, while they tended to the plants in silence. Their calming energy soothed the pain he felt.

A glint of silver bounced from Byleth’s chest when he turned to grab the pail of water, around his neck, strung in leather, was the very warped ring Dimitri had presented him with. Byleth set the water beside Dedue’s hip, and stood to take a seat beside him. He wondered if Byleth sensed his turmoil.

Nothing was said, Byleth pressed his shoulder to his own, and they sat in silence as Dedue finished gardening.

Dimitri did not know what he’d do without him.

* * *

The brisk chill of the morning helped fight off the early exhaustion he felt, standing at the gates of the monastery while his Beloved, Seteth, and Flayn, all finished packing up for their trip. Byleth had told him the previous night that he would only be gone for two or so weeks this time, at most. Dimitri trusted him, but anticipated his love to be gone for a month.

He tugged his own cloak around him and yawned, the sun had yet to rise, though the sky was beginning its shift from deep blue to a warm pink. Byleth was equally unawake, given how Flayn was shoving him all over the place, trying her very best to get him to actually partake in their packing. 

Seteth knew a lost cause when he saw it.

Byleth escaped Flayn’s pushing when they did finally get their supplies situated upon their pegasus and wyverns. He meandered to Dimitri and thumped his head against his chest, even in the brisk air of early morning, Byleth gave off a lot of heat. Dimitri wanted nothing more than to gather the man in his arms and bring him back to bed.

He rubbed Byleth’s arms beneath the black cloak, and kissed his head, “I’ll miss you too, Beloved.”

Byleth mumbled something, though it was lost in the fabric of his nightshirt.

Dimitri pulled him back enough to meet his eyes, when Byleth’s gaze rose, Dimitri swooped down to place a gentle peck on his lips. He ran his thumb along his Beloved’s cheek when they parted, “Be safe, alright? Come back to me.”

Byleth snorted, “I will.”

He stole another kiss before Byleth left to mount Dagur, the wyvern did not appear to be any more awake than her master. Flayn’s hair was braided again, and he noticed, as they got themselves ready for flight, that Flayn’s ears were indeed pointed.

Without another word, the three took off, and disappeared into the sky, nothing but small dots in the horizon as they left to travel to a safe place. Dimitri could not help but worry for them, and his hand reached for the ring around his neck. It brought him comfort, and he knew he’d see Byleth again soon.

“They are going somewhere safe,” Rhea assured from beside him, “I spent my recovery there, they will welcome him with open arms.”

“The village?”

Rhea nodded, “Yes, I imagine they’ll take another couple days for Byleth to get used to himself, then bring him there.”

Dimitri nodded, he had a hunch, but could not remember if it was ever actually spoken aloud; “Is the village populated by… Survivors?”

The woman side-eyed him, then turned her gaze to the sky, “Yes, those that remain live there.”

He nodded, Dimitri felt no need to press her for any other information, so he took his leave in silence. When morning came proper, he would return back to his kingdom. There was much work to always be done, and he wanted to follow up with Claude on the supposed bandits.

Rhea would be acting Archbishop in Byleth’s absence. Dimitri liked her well enough, he respected her for what she had done, and how she had helped guide himself and many others into the adults they were today. Yet… He prayed she did not undo the hard work his Beloved planted.

* * *

This was a special kind of torture.

Sylvain sat across from him in the study, his feet kicked back upon the table, and a catty grin crossed his face. Perhaps he should have taken Felix’s advice to run an hour ago, would it be rude to leave now? If he had to sit through one more lewd description, Dimitri was fairly sure he’d throttle the man before him.

He should have known better than to ask sexual pointers from Sylvain.

“I’m only trying to help,” Sylvain assured, an absolute bold-faced lie, “Lots of people like biting.”

He was done. 

He was so, so done. 

If he had to hear anything else about spanking, roleplay, or whatever fuck else Sylvain had cooking in his brain; he was going to loose it. Dimitri wasn't nieve, he knew very well of the more… Experimental side of sex. Certainly thought about engaging Byleth in such things when in the private space of his own room. 

He had only asked if he knew how to ease discomfort during penetration. Now he knew far more than he  _ ever _ wanted to about the man’s sex escipades.

Dimitri was thankful he had not mentioned anything he had done with Felix, Dimitri probably would have actually punched him.

When the door flew open, Dimitri thanked the Goddess for the intervention, though reconsidered his thanks when he took note of the woman in the room. Cathrine had never once visited him in the castle, not that he had minded any. They were not really close, but he appreciated her dedication to Byleth.

Yet the look on her face, one of actual fear, stuck a cold nerve within him. He rose immediately, Sylvain, even as tone deaf as he could be, did not comment and stood as well.

“Your Majesty, Lady Rhea requested your presence immediately, there is an emergency at Garreg Mach.”

“What happened, is she alright?”

Cathrine straightened, she darted a glance to Sylvain, then met his eye again, “She is, however your presence is needed as soon as possible. I don't know the specifics, however Seteth and Flayn have returned from their journey.”

“What of Byleth?”

Cathrine lowered her eyes, and that spoke louder than any word. He pushed past her, and immediately called for Dedue, they would depart without delay. 

_ What happened?  _

Byleth promised he would return to him, he swore he would. The man never broke his word unless dire circumstances fell upon him. Dimitri could not live another five years without him, not now. Not after all that happened.

Dedue seemed to have gotten word of the situation, as when he appeared he already stood in full armor, and had Dimitri’s in hand. He thanked the man, left to change, grabbed Itzel, and in an afterthought, grabbed the journal Byleth’s father had written. He still hadn't gotten around to reading it.

By the time he had reached the stables, Dedue was mounted up with Felix and Sylvain beside him, both in armor and armed as well. No words had to be spoken, Dimitri was so thankful for his friends. He hopped upon Juniper Axe’s saddle, and they left without further hesitation, Cathrine on their heels.

Dimitri rode straight through, despite Dedue’s advice not to. They were upon uncertain times, if he knew Byleth was safe, he would have heeded the warning, but he could not risk sleeping if that meant precious time would be lost tracking down their former professor.

Even still, a day and a half passed before they reached the monastery.

Rhea met them on the stairs to the entrance hall, her gaze swept over them, then she spoke, “Your Majesty, come with me.”

Dimitri dismounted Juniper Axe, handed his reins off to Dedue, and followed the acting Archbishop through the halls. They eventually arrived at the second floor, in the infirmary. Seteth and Flayn were there, they looked… Bad.

Flayn was unconscious, bandages covered her arms and a part of her shoulder, Seteth looked worse. From what he could see of the skin behind the bandages, it was bruised and scabbed. Some areas of his arm did not look right, as if they were misshapen. Perhaps his arms had been broken?

Horror swallowed his lungs, if Byleth was not with them… Then was he…?

No. He refused to believe that.

Byleth was fine, he had to be. He  _ promised. _

Rhea sat upon the windowsill, and laced her fingers upon her lap, “Byleth has been captured.”

“By who?”

“We do not know. Seteth?”

The man sat up, something that caused him great pain, from his expression. Rhea swept to his side and helped support him with extra pillows.

“We… Were attacked. It had been dark, we were in our true forms then. Byleth was practicing flight when he was shot from the sky,” Seteth brought a bandaged hand to his head, and closed his eyes, “Flayn had been shot first, then Byleth, then I. When we landed there were humans, I think, they had these strange weapons with them, and their mage- he could… He could  _ block _ our magic. He prevented Byleth from turning back time, somehow.”

Dimitri leant against the table for support as Seteth continued, “He screamed as much at us. Then they… They were trophy hunters, or something akin, I think. They tried to skin Flayn, Byleth was strong enough to break free and protect her. They- Its a blur. I think they had drugged us. Byleth managed to free Flayn and I, and begged us to leave. We could get help. Flayn she… She wasn't breathing then, I carried her back and we managed to save her.”

His breath came in short gasps, his lungs constricted upon themselves, he couldn't breathe. His world spun.

“So you left him there, with those damn poachers?”

Seteth bared his teeth, canines longer than any human’s glinted in the evening light, “What choice did I have? Flayn was dying.”

Dimitri could feel the table splinter in his grip, but it meant nothing, the only thing he felt was white-hot rage, “You  _ left _ him to die.”

“I tried to protect him, there were too many, we could not use magic, we could not transform. I left to get help and save my daughter, if I stayed, we  _ all _ would have died!” Seteth’s voice cracked, and Dimitri counted to twenty. 

He would not become that beast again, he would not lose himself to anger. 

He  _ couldn't. _

“I will send word to the others, and we will mount a search party for him.”

Rhea rose, “You will do no such thing. I already have the knights looking for Byleth, or a dragon. If you tell your classmates what happened word will spread, and we all will be in danger.”

“Do you truly think so  _ little _ of them?” Dimitri spat, “That they would endanger our professor, that they would endanger innocent lives? They love Byleth as I do, and they will  **not** be left in the dark while Byleth could die.”

Her eyes narrowed, “As Archbishop, I forbid you from contacting them, this will be handled by the church.”

Dimitri laughed bitterly and scoffed at her, “As your  _ King, _ you have no authority over me or my actions.”

“You would dare go against the church of Serios?”

“Yes, I will go against  _ your _ church, if it means Byleth will be found before he is skinned and displayed like a trophy buck.”

The woman blinked, yet before she could speak again, Seteth interrupted her, “He is right, Rhea. We need to find him, fast. If they know what he is,  _ who, _ he is, this could endanger us all.”

“Fine,” She resigned, “You have my permission.”

“I did not need it to begin with,” Dimitri hissed and slammed the door to the infirmary behind him.

If those bastards  _ dared _ to touch his Beloved, they would pay. 

He would kill them all,  _ every last one of them. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The horny jumped out y'all, my b.
> 
> No but seriously?? Thank you all so much for the support! We are already at over 500 kudos?? Like?? Dang. ALSO, thank you all for the support, each comment really warms me heart, I'm dyin.
> 
> Enjoy the cliffhanger folks and wave goodbye to canon. It was nice having it around, but we movin on now.
> 
> As usual, feel free hit hit up my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/vulturepops) or my [Tumblr](https://disastergays.tumblr.com/) if you want to come scream with me or somthin.


	13. The Search for Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So you got along with humans, before the war,” Dimitri frowned.
> 
> “At the time then, yes.”
> 
> Dimitri had nothing else to say to that, so they continued further in.

Within a week, the monastery was full of people. 

Dimitri kept to himself, he was far too stressed to socialize, but took comfort in his rotating group of friends that kept him company as his mind raced. Dedue was the most frequent, silent beside him as Dimitri sat on the pier and gazed out over the water. His presence helped soothe his terror, every time he thought he could manage himself, the whispers would come back.

This was his fault. He should never have let Byleth go alone.

What a disgrace he was. A  _ King _ reduced to a mere shell when his lover disappeared.

He felt pathetic. Helpless in the face of such a monumental problem, that he could barely make it through a single page of work before he lost focus.

Dorothea helped him the most.

She arrived with her own fiancé five days after the letters were sent, they had flown in on pegasi as soon as they heard. Petra tried to help, but she did not have the same way with words her future wife did. Dorothea’s ‘tough love’ helped keep him functional and bathed, while also doing the bare minimum of his responsibilities as a king.

When Lady Rhea called for a war council, everyone filed into a room too small for the lot of them, yet it had held them once before, and could do it again. Rhea sat in Byleth’s seat, and steepled her fingers under her chin, Dimitri pushed down the irritation at her simply  _ taking _ Byleth’s position.

“I assume everyone present knows the matter at hand?”

Felix spoke first, his arms crossed and glare venomous, “Byleth was captured, Seteth and Flayn almost died, and you have been keeping secrets.”

Dimitri shared his sentiment.

Mercedes did not, “Felix! Come now, do not be so harsh, I am sure there is a reason, right Lady Rhea?”

The woman faltered momentarily, then nodded. She raised her chin and stepped into the mask of a ruler, “What will be told in this room today will go against what many of you have learned in your time at the academy and what you were raised to trust. It matters not if you believe my words, for they are true nonetheless. By telling you all this, you must swear to secrecy for the sake of many innocent lives, including mine, Seteth’s, and Flayn’s.”

The room was thick with silence, so she continued, “To start, it must be said that I am not human, nor are Seteth, Flayn, or Byleth. We are an ancient race known as the Nabateans, the crests that those of you may bear, have come from lines of those that have consumed the flesh and blood of my people.”

Sylvain looked as if he were going to be sick, “What happened to the whole,  _ blessed _ by the Goddess bullshit you’ve spewed?”

“It… is a lie. Those relics many of you wield, they are… They were crafted from the corpses of those slain by Nemesis, the King of Liberation; and his elites. Those crest stones that sit within your weapons? They are the hearts of those that died.”

Not a single word was spoken, nausea hung heavy in the air. Dimitri spared a glance at Claude, his relic was not on him, yet he knew it was not far. Dimitri had sent it back to him, when the war had ended, Claude had it at his side ever since.

The ever-cheerful man’s mask had cracked, his skin was pale, and while the smile remained, Dimitri did not think he was holding the knowledge being dropped upon him as easily as he attempted to seem.

“Why?” Annette’s voice was so small, so scared, “ _ Why _ would you keep that from us? How- How could you let us wield the bodies of the dead like that?”

Rhea did not meet her gaze, “There are Nabateans that survived the massacre, they live far away from humans, where your kind could never hope to reach. If knowledge of how the weapons were made, how crests were gained had become known, we feared those remaining would be hunted down and killed.”

“We had hoped,” She continued, “That by letting you continue to believe Nemesis was a hero, instead of the monster he truly was, it would allow for my people to go into hiding, to be safe. Ideally, this would never have been parted upon you.”

“So,  _ what? _ ” Felix’s tone was level, calm almost. Yet his voice rose with each word he spoke, “You would have rather us believe the blood that gives us our crests was a blessing, and not the result of some bloodthirsty monsters? You would rather us use the corpses of your people, than tell us the truth? Why did you not keep them locked away? Why would you allow a  _ whole society _ to exist based around them?!”

Rhea narrowed her gaze at him, “It is not ideal, but what other choice did we have then? They lived in exchange for keeping our people secret.”

“You can't just keep something like that from us!” Lysithea exclaimed, her small fists beat against the table, “The dead are to be honored, and yet you’d have us use them a-as mere tools? At least tell us what they once had been, if I’d known I would have been far more respectful to mine!”

Murmurs of agreement circled around the table, Rhea let them for a couple moments until she stood, and all fell still.

“I understand your frustration and anger, we can discuss whether or not it had been the right choice later. Now we have to focus on finding Byleth.”

“Are… Are they going to turn him into… One of the relics?” Linhardt’s hand covered his mouth, likely still attempting to process what all had been told. 

“We do not know the nature of who attacked him. They could be nothing more than trophy hunters, looking to skin, declaw, and dehorn him.”

Dimitri moved his hands from the table to his lap in fear of splintering the wood in his grasp. What if they had killed Byleth already? What if his corpse was just in the middle of a forest somewhere, left to rot? 

Dedue’s hand upon his shoulder was steadying.

“Then we’ll do the same to them!” Caspar jumped from his seat, “They won't get away with this, I’ll keep looking until I find them!”

The fist positive emotion crossed Rhea’s face, a small smile, though she gestured for the warrior to sit back down, “Calm yourself, Caspar. We all share the sentiment, however, we must also take into consideration that these may not have been mere bandits and hunters. If they knew of my people, and knew what they could craft from my people, Byleth would be in truly grave danger.”

“Oh, but  _ skinning _ him for some pretty new jackets is perfectly acceptable?” Sylvain spat.

“He would survive. Our kind are… Very hardy. We can live through many things that would kill anyone else. I would never wish such torture upon anyone, however, believe me when I say—we best pray they were hunters, and not something else.”

“By  _ survive, _ ” Linhardt spoke, “You mean he’d sleep for another five years, yes?”

“Perhaps longer depending on how severe the damage would be.” She stated, “There is more, we do have a reason for being so concerned with who had captured Byleth.”

“Other than the fact he could be skinned alive?” Hilda drawled, she leant back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest. 

Rhea ignored her, and continued, “Byleth is a Nabatean, yes, but he is also the incarnation of the Goddess herself, Sothis.”

Claude barked out a laugh, harsh and sour, “You're shitting us, you have to be shitting us. The magic lady in the sky, was  _ one, _ real, and two, our professor this whole ass time?”

“Watch how you speak of the Goddess, Claude,” Rhea snapped, “And yes, you do not need to know the details, none of you do. Know the Goddess exists within Byleth, and because of that power he wields, if the people who had captured him found his true nature; we  _ all _ would be in danger.”

“With all due respect Lady Rhea,” He bit back, “I could say the same of how you address me. It’d sure be a shame to have a falling out with the King of Almyra, wouldn't it?”

Rhea massaged the side of her head, “Very well,  _ King  _ Reigan. Regardless, speed and secrecy is paramount.”

Seteth had remained at the far end of the table, silent, through the entire meeting. When he rose to his feet, and leant heavily on a crutch, the table fell silent and gave him their attention.

“Rhea, we need to involve our siblings,” He grit out, “Macuil and Indech could help us, I do not believe they could have been poachers. My memory is vague, yes, but our magic was sealed. No normal mage has that power.”

“Well, if Byleth is Sothis  _ apparently, _ I guess it would make sense you two are saints,” Linhardt murmured, and the table exploded into questions and chaos.

Dimitri tuned them out, his mind spiraled. He needed air.

Without a word, he stood from the table and left the room, if he had stayed he probably would have snapped at someone unjustly. He leant against the outer wall of the war room, he could still hear shouting, and there were so many questions. Dimitri was thankful they were muffled by the heavy wooden door though.

He brought his hand to his chest, and fiddled with the silver ring around his neck. It brought him some semblance of comfort, when his mind escaped him to a dark place. Visions of Byleth dead and gutted on the ground swarmed his mind, Byleth had called out to him for help, and he never came.

He abandoned him, when the man needed him most.

“Dimitri.”

He jolted at the sound of his name, and glanced up to see Dedue standing in the doorway, he closed the door behind him, and nodded his head to the stairs. Dimitri eagerly followed, and left the noise of the arguing behind him.

“What is the plan?” He inquired, Dimitri recognized they were headed to the greenhouse.

“Seteth and Rhea are arguing over involving others of their kind in the search. Apparently, there is bad blood between Lady Rhea and the other two saints, Seteth stated he will make the journey, though he is very weak now.”

Dimitri nodded, and held the glass door open for his friend, then sat on the stones while Dedue gathered what he’d need for gardening.

“...Is Byleth truly Sothis?”

Dimitri propped his cheek up on a fist and gazed over at the forget-me-knots Byleth had planted, “Yes, and no. It is complicated, to my understanding. He was born dead, and his mother carried Sothis’ heart, the crest stone, within her. To save him, Rhea put it into Byleth. It brought him to life, albeit with no heartbeat, but it also somehow awoke her? I… Do not get it fully myself.”

Dedue nodded, “I see.”

“If Rhea does not mount a search soon, I will do it myself,” Dimitri groused, “Each day wasted arguing is a day we could have saved Byleth.”

“He is strong, Dimitri,” Dedue spoke, “We will find him, our friends share the same sentiment. That is why they are so angry, they care for him too.”

Dimitri nodded, it… Helped, knowing he was not the only one furious with the situation. He could not lose himself to his anger, not again. Such blind rage made him sloppy, and now more than ever he needed his mind sharp. One wrong move could be the end of Byleth, if they were not cautious.

He was not sure how long had passed until the door to the greenhouse was kicked open, “You stupid boar!”

Ah, good to see Felix was still acting as usual.

“You knew this,  _ all of this? _ The whole time?” He shouted, his arms spread out in a show of exasperation, but was shoved aside by Sylvain. The man did not speak, though the hollowed look in his eyes told plenty. 

The greenhouse was not meant to hold so many people, and yet, the entirety of the former students of the officers academy filed in, pushed against each other as they tried to make room.

Claude scratched at his stubble, “Well, this certainly had been a more eventful gathering than anticipated. We are apparently going to find two saints? And have them help us save Byleth? Or something?”

“And one of the saints… Just so happens to be in Sreng desert, where we last saw our suspicious group traveling toward…” Ingrid bit her nail.

“Lorenz told me about Emile, is it true he was seen with those people? Do you… Do you think he might have had something to do with this?” Mercedes was a strong woman, yet the way her voice wavered spoke of the emotion swirling beneath her words.

Dimitri ran a hand down his face, “We do not know for sure if the potential bandits we had been tracking have anything to do with this, nor if the corpses Claude’s people found are related. As such, we can not say for sure if the Death Knight is involved. And if he is, there is no way to know how or why.”

He stood, the people stepped back to make room for him, “We are going to find the saints, then?”

“That's the plan,” Linhardt spoke, “Seteth will guide us, and hopefully, keep us from getting eaten by angry dragons.”

“And Lady Rhea?”

“Will remain at the monastery,” Claude interjected, “Her presence would probably piss them off further, if our own blood doesn't do us in, apparently.”

Ah, right.

Blaiddyd had been one of the ten elites. Dimitri pushed it from his mind, he could wallow in self-hatred later, now with a game plan in motion, they needed to leave. And they needed to leave now.

“Very well, everyone, suit up. Make sure your gear and weapons are in top form, we will depart as soon as possible. Pack rations, we know not how long this journey will be.”

* * *

Instead of going straight north, they went east instead.

Dimitri rode beside Seteth, as he led them from the monastery. He was not well enough to fly, apparently, so his wyvern took to walking. The travel was slow, but it was progress nonetheless.

“Are we not going to Sreng?”

“No, not yet,” Seteth explained, “We are going to where we were attacked, there may be some sort of clue as to what we are dealing with. And, if they were trophy hunters, Byleth could… He could be there.”

The thought made Dimitri nauseous. He was glad though, that Seteth was thinking of all possibilities. So, he nodded, and remained silent as they traveled. 

“So, you can turn into a dragon?” Annette trotted her horse forward to match Seteth’s pace, the man stifled a sigh.

“Sure.”

“How come you never became a dragon before? Is it like a curse? Can you only be a dragon in the full moon?”

Seteth drew a hand down his face, “I never transformed in order to protect my identity, it is not a curse, and I am not a werewolf.”

“Why don't you turn into a dragon now then? Wouldn't it be faster than us just trotting along here?”

“I am injured, even if I  _ were _ to take my true form now, I would be unable to fly, much less carry  _ all _ of you.”

When Annette opened her mouth again, Dimitri took pity on the man and cut her off, “That is enough for now Annette, let us focus on finding Byleth.”

She stuck her lip out in a pout, but relented and slowed her steed to match the pace of the rest of their calvary behind them. Seteth shot a thankful glance at him, and Dimitri nodded. 

He would not keep them from pestering Seteth for answers forever, but, when the man could barely sit up straight and still led the hunt for Byleth… Dimitri respected him. And allowed him that reprieve. Behind them, his friends spoke in hushed whispers, many confused or in disbelief at the knowledge dropped upon them, Dimitri recalled how he felt when he first began to learn of Byleth’s nature.

It had been… Rough. 

Though looking back on it now, many of what Byleth has told him filled in gaps and questions he had for years. 

They set up camp when the sun fell, Dimitri was not hungry, though was forced to eat by Dedue and Ashe. When they were satisfied he wouldn't starve himself, they let him sit before the fire in peace. They shouldn't be stopping. What if Byleth was still alive, barely holding on? Their selfish rest could cost the man his life.

Dimitri buried his head in his hands.

It would do no good to think like that, as desperate as he was to find Byleth, he knew those traveled with him were human. They all had needs, pushing them past their limits was cruel. He couldnt be like that again, it had led to too many people dying unjust deaths. Dimitri refused to let anyone fall this time.

Seteth eased himself beside him, and leant back against the tough hide of his wyvern when it curled behind them.

Dimitri raised his head and spared him a glance, Seteth did not meet his eye, instead looked over the fire himself. They were quiet for some time, though eventually Seteth broke the silence.

“We’ll find him.”

“I pray we find him alive,” Dimitri murmured.

“We will,” Seteth stated, his brows furrowed, “I worry what state he may be in, but he is still alive. I know that much.”

“How?”

The man frowned and scratched at the bandages covering his chest, “Call it a hunch, I suppose. We are connected, in a way. It is hard to explain, I know he is alive because I have not felt his death.”

“That makes no sense,” Dimitri grunted.

Seteth chuckled, “Yes, well, I am old. Words can escape me sometimes. Our kind are intertwined in a way humans are not.”

“Because you are all Sothis’ children?”

“Yes, and no,” He continued, his eyes narrowed when he noticed the growing crowd forming around him as he spoke, “Rhea, Macuil, Indech, and I are the only direct descendants of her, and Flayn, as my daughter.”

“Then why was Sothis hailed as a Goddess?” Claude inquired with a yawn while he leant back against Nendruil’s snoring body.

“Simple, she was our leader, and the strongest of us. So, she was our Goddess,” Seteth scratched his chin, “It was less of our kind  _ truly _ worshipping her, and more of something akin to your kind’s kings or emperors. She was our ruler and protector.

“Those of us connected by blood are bound together. We can feel each other's presence, it is not something so easily explained past that,” He finished.

“Then wouldn’t you have known Byleth was still alive when he was a baby?” Claude leaned forward and rested his arms upon his knees.

“Read Jeralt’s diary?”

“You bet.”

Seteth sighed, “Byleth had not become one with Sothis then, when Jerlat used the fire to escape. It was not until he regained his strength and true form that he could be felt by us. Before that, he may as well have been human. Plus, Rhea was the only one who knew what she had done then, I did not realize until much later.”

Felix groaned, “So  _ you _ knew our professor was a damn Goddess the whole time too?”

Claude held up a hand, “Hey,  _ that _ is news to me too. I only knew his heart didn't beat and Rhea did some weird stuff to him when he was a baby; so he didn't feel emotions or something.”

“Byleth could always feel just like any of us,” Dimitri defended despite himself, “He just did not know how to express them.”

Claude raised a brow in his direction, “How did you learn that?”

“Byleth told me himself, the man grew up in a band of mercenaries, hardly the best example of emotional expressions there,” He snorted, “Many mistook his lack of social awareness for being numb.”

“Ah.”

Something akin to guilt washed over Claude’s features, and his eyes left Dimitri to gaze into the fire without another word. It was odd seeing the man express himself so openly, perhaps he felt comfortable around them? Or perhaps maintaining his persona was too much work at the time.

Dimitri rested his fingers against the silver around his neck and took comfort in it’s presence. He had to trust that Seteth was right, Byleth was still alive. It was something he could cling to.

They rested, and continued their travel when the sun peeked over the horizon.

Time passed in a blur, Dimitri couldn't remember how many days had passed since they started their trip. It wasn't long, he knew that much, however it felt like eons. Seteth held a hand up, and they stopped as they neared the edge of a forest. 

It was not the same one Byleth had gone to, obviously, yet, there was a similar sort of dread attached to it. Nausea bubbled in his gut, even without having entered it yet. Where were they?

“This is the place,” Seteth stated, “Follow me and do not falter your step. The fear will pass.”

They filed into a single line, and entered the forest. Dimitri forced all of his attention on Seteth’s back, as horror and shadows danced among his vision. Memories of blood and screams rang through his mind while a heavy mist descended upon them as a blanket.

Seteth spoke, loud and clear, “No matter what you see or hear, keep moving forward and do not hesitate.”

They did as told. Dimitri wanted to look behind him, to make sure the others were following, but he feared if he did, his momentum would falter, and he’d be lost. Dimitri did not know what sort of curse surrounded this forest, but it was unlike magic Dimitri had ever seen or experienced before. Was this the Nabatean’s doing?

The fog turned into suffocating smoke, fires were lit by the flame Emperor, she laughed as the people Dimitri loved were slaughtered around him. 

That wasn't what happened.

Byleth called out to him, he was screaming in pain. He was alive, he was  _ here. _ Dimitri did not even have a chance to turn toward the voice when Seteth snapped him from it, “Do. Not. Falter.”

“But Byleth-”

“It is an illusion, keep moving.”

He was begging him to save him, free him from the torture inflicted upon him. Byleth’s voice was so frail, so weak. He was barely holding on. Byleth asked why he was ignoring him, why he was abandoning him to suffer.

It was an illusion. It wasn't real.

Dimitri hung his head and kept moving. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sylvain’s horse begin to stray from their line.

“Sylvain! Do not leave, this is magic, it is an illusion!”

The man’s breaths were heavy, conflict spread upon his features, “But-”

“Return to the line, Sylvain. That is an  _ order. _ ”

Dimitri feared he had faltered too long, yet, the man nodded and returned to them. No longer straying from the path. They continued on.

Occasionally he would hear one of his companions shout to another, drawing them back to the group so they did not wander. When he raised his head to check on Seteth, the man appeared to be wholly unbothered. As were their mounts.

Was this magic meant to keep humans away from their home? Were they going to the village?

The mist gave way to a lush grotto. A stream passed through it, and several small cabins dotted the riverbank. There was a waterfall nearby, he could hear the thunder of crashing water. The tension dissipated, and they all breathed a sigh of relief.

Seteth turned around and did a head count, satisfied everyone made it, his pace became more relaxed as he led them down the hill to where the little homes were stationed.

“Is this the village?”

“No, it is a temporary home for my kind while we mature. You have seen first hand how… Disastrous, it can be.”

Dimitri nodded, “So you bring your children here?”

“Young teens mostly, during their second shift until they gain control of themselves, then, we return to the village as our true selves.”

“Are… There any here now?”

“No, we have sent word to keep the young away for the time being.”

Made sense, if humans could get past such horrors once, they likely had the means to do it twice. As they neared the hidden valley, an odd smell washed over him. Akin to blood, yet more sour. Dimitri had not smelled something like it before.

Seteth slid off his wyvern then, Dimitri was quick to follow suit, as were the others. They passed through the untouched valley, no signs of struggle or fight. Then, Seteth neared the edge of the forest again, he waited until they all caught up with him, then stepped within. 

There was no mist this time, no illusions. Instead, as they neared their mark, the stench of blood hung thick in the air. Dimitri’s chest tightened in his panic. What sort of disaster would meet them, what state was Byleth in?

The once tall forest gave way to broken branches, and splintered bark. Massive trees reduced to logs as if something, or more accurately, someone, fell upon them. Blood stained many of the spires of wood dark.

“Yikes,” Claude stood beside him, his brows furrowed as he looked over the bloodied scene. 

Dimitri was unsure if he should be relieved Byleth was not there, or more worried than before.

They spread out, Dimitri found deep gashes in the mud, bushes and grass torn in a fierce struggle. He found a strip of skin, small white scales dotted the messy attempt to skin whatever this had belonged to. The scales shone akin to pearls. They reminded him of the ones he had seen Byleth grow before.

“Seteth, would these be of any help?”

The man limped over and knelt beside him, his fingers brushed over the scales and he growled, “No, these were Flayn’s.”

“Flayn has scales as well?”

“Yes,” He grunted and pushed himself to his feet, “Byleth’s would have been far more large anyhow.”

Good to note.

“Check this out!” Caspar shouted from somewhere off to Dimitri’s left. 

Seteth meandered over to track him down, Dimitri upon his heels. When they found him, he held a massive feather over his head. It was a pearlescent color, white, yet if tilted the right way it shone a brilliant green.

The feather was as tall as Caspar was.

Seteth approached him, “Did you find any others?”

“Nope, just this! Can you  _ believe _ birds get this big?”

Seteth, the poor man looked as if he were suffering, pulled a hand down his face and chose not to comment on that, instead, he addressed the rest of them, “Keep an eye out for feathers of this size and color, they belong to Byleth.”

“I thought dragons were all scaly, like big lizards,” Caspar justified, an embarrassed blush spread across his face.

“Many are, yes, but not all.”

“Are  _ you _ scaly?”

Seteth rolled his eyes, “Yes.”

They continued the search, more blood, Seteth found a particularly interesting patch of ground, yet, no other signs of Byleth.

“They were not poachers,” Seteth growled, his hand curled into a fist over the earth he had his hand upon.

The group gathered around him, none spoke.

“It is as we feared, the ones that attacked us, knew exactly what we were.”

“How can you tell?” Dedue’s even voice helped steady Dimitri from the swirl of emotions that coursed through him.

“The magic used, this is long forgotten magic,” He lifted his hand from the patch of earth, “If they had been poachers, they would not have bothered to carry his body on top of taking his horns or whatever they could get their greedy hands upon. He would have been far too large to risk being seen with.”

“So then, who took him?”

“There are many possibilities, however, we now know they likely intend to use him and create a weapon.” Seteth stood, when he wobbled, Dedue helped keep the man upright. They began to walk back toward their mounts.

“What do we do?”

“We go to Indech, then to Macuil.”

Ingrid bit her thumb, “Do you think they’ll help us?”

“Indech will,” Seteth’s voice was firm, “He bears no ill will toward your kind, not anymore. Macuil… May be more difficult to convince, I hope if we have Indech with us, he will be more likely to listen to reason.”

They departed, and Caspar kept the feather around his shoulders like an oversized scarf. Apparently it was warm. Dimitri was not surprised, with the heat his Beloved exuded, that even parts of him would still bring warmth to those he cared for. The trek from the forest was easier, no mist nor ghosts to haunt them. Dimitri wondered why.

* * *

Their travels took them north.

Even as the world blurred around him, Dimitri was acutely aware of how much time had passed. Seteth sat straighter, his wounds were healing, yet as they made their way toward the Rhodos Coast, Dimitri feared if they spent any longer on this journey Byleth would be killed for sure.

What was stopping them, really?

Why wait this long to kill him? What were they after?

Did the ritual take time? Did he need to be alive for it? How were the weapons made?

Dimitri was thankful Byleth still lived, according to Seteth, yet his treacherous mind could not help but be filled with concern. What sort of place was he in? Was he scared? Were they torturing him? Maybe trying to get information from him?

The more he thought, the angrier he became.

“Dimitri.”

“What?” He snarled, though his anger faltered when he realized it was Seteth who spoke, he hung his head, “My… Apologies.”

Seteth did not respond, and only slid off his wyvern, Dimitri took the hint and did the same. They had come to another dense forest, though no ill feeling surrounded this one. A simple forest, nothing more, it seemed. 

Seteth took post a bit further away from the group as they all dismounted and gathered their weapons, in case a fight were to break out. Dimitri hoped it was not the case, yet a part of him welcomed the chance to take his anger out on something, anything.

He feared he would lash out sooner than later if he did not find an outlet.

When they were prepared, Seteth led them and their steeds through the trees and along a river.

“Indech guards a temple hidden here,” Seteth explained, “He may want to test your mettle in combat, so be prepared.”

Dimitri pulled his silver lance from his back, Itzel safely upon Juniper Axe’s flank, he had brought her with, but still had no intention of using her. It seemed the others had similar plans, going for their silver or blessed weapons over their holy relics.

Just as Seteth said, in the distance, through the trees, Dimitri could make out a towering spire, sitting in the middle of a lake. Lake Teutates, if he recalled correctly. 

As they approached the lake, the land became blanketed in heavy mist. It did not come with the terror they experienced previously, yet dread nonetheless hung heavy within the air. Seteth approached the water, and dipped his hand down to the bank, jagged green scales burst from his arm, as black talons gripped the soft mud.

A path pushed from the lake. Stepping stones carved in intricate patterns rose from the dark water. Seteth shook off his scales, and his hand returned to a human shape. 

“Come, he is inside.”

They left their mounts behind and walked the path to the temple. 

“Check that thing out,” Leonie gasped, her feet strayed closer to the center of the path as a shadow passed beneath them. Glimmering spots of blue flickered on the creature, like fireflies on a warm summer’s night.

The creature took no interest in them, and continued it’s lazy lap around the tower. Dimitri had never seen such a thing before.

“It should not harm you,” Seteth stated, “They, like Indech, are guardians of this lake. Unless your intentions are ill, then they will drown you.”

“Oh, is that all?” Linhardt drawled, and like Leonie, took careful steps to remain as far from the edge as possible.

Another one of the creatures appeared and passed beneath them, undisturbed by their presence. 

Dimitri felt a surge of pride at his fellow warriors, not a single one of them had ill intent. Like him, they only desired to save Byleth from the monsters that captured him.

Seteth stood on the last tile while the rest of them filed up the stairs to the entrance of the tower. When he stepped from the stone, the whole path returned to the water without so much of a ripple. Another glowing creature circled the stairs, though made no move to attack them.

Seteth pushed open the massive stone doors, and gestured them inside.

The temple reeked of moss and algae. Even without having direct contact with the water, the floors and the walls were wet and cool to the touch, as if the very stone bled water. It was dark, so Linhardt, Lysithea, and Annette took to creating small balls of fire to light their way. 

Murals had been carved into the stone, many had been worn from the water flowing from the cracks, yet faint indentations remained. Lindhardt was the first to approach one, he held up a light and illuminated a carving of a massive turtle, carrying a city upon it’s back.

“Is that Indech?” He inquired, as his free hand brushed over the stone.

“A glorification of him, yes.”

“So, he never carried a city upon his back?”

Seteth snorted, “No, we are big, but not  _ that _ big. In truth, it shows when Indech had carried supplies to help humans build their cities.”

“So you got along with humans, before the war,” Dimitri frowned.

“At the time then, yes.”

Dimitri had nothing else to say to that, so they continued further in. 

Seteth led them down a series of stairs, water fell upon them from all sides as they walked down the spiraling stone. Finally, they reached a massive room.

In the center was what looked to be a tomb. Yet it was surrounded by glowing water on all sides, only a thin wood bridge reached out upon it. How did this exist under the lake? How did the weight of the water not crush the stone, or overflow the chamber?

Seteth stood at the base of the wooden bridge, and called out, “Indech!”

A drop of water could be heard, and the thunder of the waterfalls stopped. The room became quiet, too quiet.

The water rippled, and folded in upon itself, creating a small vortex of swirling and crashing waves. Water lapped at their feet as it overflowed from the underground lake.

Then, all was still. 

From the water, a head rose, smooth and dark. Two horns curved along the creature’s jaw, and a single one curled from the tip of the nose. Two black eyes peered down upon them, and Dimitri could feel a thrum of power as the dragon rose to its full height. The dragon tilted it’s head at them, and Dimitri tightened his grip upon his lance.

Yet, it seemed the dragon bore no ill will, as instead of attacking them, the being’s lips split into a… Smile? Dimitri hoped it was a smile, with so many small sharp teeth bared.

_ “Cihol, it has been quite some time since we’ve spoken, my brother. Who are all these?”  _ The dragon’s voice was deep and thundered through the cavern, almost more felt than heard. Yet, there was an odd kindness to the tone, Dimitri did not release his lance, but lowered it.

“They are friends,” Seteth explained, and glanced over his shoulder at them, “You can put your weapons away.”

They did as such, though Dimitri felt insecure without his lance in hand. So while he no longer had it primed to attack, keeping it in hand eased his worry.

“We have come to ask for your help,” Seteth continued, and turned to face the dragon, “One of our own has been captured.”

Indech’s (?) head lowered, concern graced the scales features,  _ “Is your young alright?” _

“She is stable, but resting. It was Sothis’ incarnation.”

Black eyes widened, and his mouth opened just enough to show the rows of teeth within his maw,  _ “So I had not imagined her return.” _

“Yes, and no. Byleth is his name, he is his own person. It is not a true return of our mother.”

Indech hummed, a deep rumbling sound, rocks scattered to the ground from above them,  _ “I see, my power is not what it once was, Cihol.” _

“Neither is mine,” Seteth admitted, “But we must try. These humans are willing to risk their lives to save him.”

Indech’s head rose, and he towered over their group. Dimitri could feel Dedue and Felix press against his sides, while the group shrunk under the dragon’s gaze. He lowered it and  _ sniffed _ them, then a deep chuckle resonated from his throat.

_ “I see! How delightful, why, I have not seen such love for our own in quite some time,” _ Indech laughed.

“Byleth was once their professor, and helped end a war among them.”

Indech nodded,  _ “How curious. I did not feel his presence until rather recent though?” _

“It… It's complicated.”

A pregnant pause settled over them, and Indech snorted, distaste poured from his voice,  _ “Serios?” _

“...Yes.”

He clicked his tongue,  _ “When will that child learn?” _

Seteth sighed, but did not respond any further. 

_ “Very well, I shall help you in your endeavor to save your professor. The temple has been rather stuffy as of late anyhow.” _

“Will it be safe without you guarding it?” Seteth inquired.

_ “Of course. Frankly, I have simply been relaxing here, engaging the odd mortal that would come my way. Humans are so funny, Cihol, why, I had one in ah… Maybe fifty years ago? What a strange group, they had gone fishing, and caught one of my guards by accident.” _

Seteth let out a long suffering sigh, and ushered them back up the stairs, “Lets go, unless you want to drown, we best leave the temple before Indech does.”

“Wait hold on, what happened to testing out mettle?” Felix demanded, and Sylvain had to resort to pushing the man up the stairs. 

Indech laughed,  _ “We can battle later, little warrior.” _

The water began to rise and Seteth cursed, “Indech you idiot!”

Their jog broke into a run, as they scrambled to escape the rapidly rising water. They tore through the hall and managed to get out just as the lake swallowed the temple into its depths. They were not inside it, but they also were now all stuck swimming in the middle of the lake.

Seteth growled something in a tongue Dimitri did not recognize, and kicked over to the weaker swimmers of their group to support them. 

Something brushed their feet, and Dimitri prepared to strike. Yet as it pushed against them, the water gave way to solid ground. They were lifted from the water upon the back of the dragon’s shell.

Indech craned his head over the shell, and gazed over the group, then laughed,  _ “My apologies. I forgot the temple would sink when I left, I got a bit over-excited.” _

They were ferried to the edge of the water, and slid down his neck onto relatively solid ground. When the last of them left his back, a burst of energy thrummed through the air as light surrounded the dragon. It split open, and the scales washed away to leave pale skin. 

After just a moment, a man stood before them. His hair was messy, and a deeper shade of green than Seteth’s, though his eyes were the same. The man’s grin stretched across his face, “It has been quite some time since I’ve taken this form.”

Seteth cleared his throat, and offered a simple tunic to the bare man, “Ah, thank you brother.”

He slipped it over his head, briefly, when his curled hair had been pressed close to his head, Dimitri noticed a pair of pointed ears peeking from the dark green. Indech approached them, and inclined his head once more, as if taking them in truth for the first time. 

His eyes moved to Dimitri and Dedue, “Wow, I didn't know you came that tall.”

Neither he nor Dedue knew how to respond other than a vaguely nervous wheeze.

“Do not patronize them, Indech,” Seteth groused, “Come, we must make haste to Macuil.”

Indech froze, and turned to Seteth with raised brows, “Do you really think bringing  _ them _ to him is a good idea?”

“We have little choice, if my fears are correct, we will need all the help we can get rescuing Byleth.”

“I… See. Is the village safe?”

“Yes, though I worry it may not be the case for very long if they are able to craft more relics from him.”

Dimitri felt his spear bend in his grip, the silver gave way easily in his fist.

Indech glanced at him then, their eyes met. After a beat, Indech turned back to Seteth, “What do they know?”

“Enough, not a lot, but enough to know what the relics are and where they came from.”

Indech’s ears twitched, and he glanced over the group again, none held their relic upon them, though their steeds were not far off. Dimitri wondered if Indech could sense the blood upon his hands.

“I see, so Serios stuck to that, then.”

“Yes.”

Indech curled his lip in disgust, “Very well, we best keep the relics far from Macuil if you’d have  _ any _ chance of convincing him.”

Seteth nodded, and they returned to their mounts. Dimitri could feel Indech’s eyes upon him as he mounted Juniper Axe, he bristled under the attention. Either Indech did not notice his discomfort, or did not care. Even as he mounted Seteth’s wyvern behind him, his eyes never left Dimitri.

Was he studying him? Searching for something? Could he see the blood that caked his hands and soul?

Indech let his thoughts be known as they started their leave of the forest, “Is the yellow haired one his mate?”

Seteth sputtered and Sylvain started laughing beside him. It did not take long for the rest of the group to descend into fits of giggles. Indech did not seem to understand why they were laughing at him, and simply blinked.

“We… Are engaged,” Dimitri mumbled in response, to which Indech just furrowed his brows, and nudged Seteth. 

Seteth sighed, “Human courtship traditions are different than ours.”

“So… is that a yes, then?”

“I think he’s asking if you’ve fucked,” Sylvain, not-so-helpfully supplied, and grunted when Felix elbowed him.

All eyes were on him, and Dimitri felt his cheeks burn. What happened between him and Byleth was none of their business, and he had no plans of flaunting his  _ ‘conquest’ _ as others may have. He and Byleth were together, and they were happy, that was all that mattered; and as far as Dimitri was concerned, all they needed to know.

Dimitri certainly did not see why them having sex meant anything to Indech, the dragon did not even know he or Byleth.

So, Dimitri kept silent, it seemed to be enough of an answer for Indech, as the man nodded, “I see, I see. How wonderful, it has been so long since one of our own took a human mate, why I think Ma-”

“Indech.”

“Yes, Cihol?”

“Shut up.”

Indech laughed, but did not speak any further on whatever he had planned to say. Dimitri eyed the man, he seemed chipper, but the way he looked at them… It unnerved Dimitri. As if the dragon saw them as toys, or children, and not fellow sentient beings.

Perhaps Dimitri was overthinking things. His worry for Byleth put him on guard, probably too much so. 

When they left the forest, night had already fallen upon them. Seteth pushed them further a bit until they made it to a rocky craig they could shelter in for the eve. Dimitri sat before the fire, Itzel rested upon his lap, Dedue on his blind side, and Caspar on his other. 

He watched Indech hop from person to person, getting names and seemingly trying to get to know them. He rubbed Dimitri the wrong way, he was too nice, he looked at them as if they were animals. Dimitri could accept being looked upon as a wild beast, but the others? They were far from it.

Seteth rested on the other side of the fire with a sigh, and massaged his ribs. The man had not yet fully healed, but Dimitri was glad to see him holding on nonetheless. Iztel thrummed with energy each time Indech passed. He wondered why, especially given Indech seemed to give him a wide berth when holding her.

Though, given what Itzel once was, he supposed it made sense. She likely unnerved him.

Caspar held his axe up to the fire, and narrowed his eyes at the weapon. After a beat, he seemed pleased with what he saw, and tucked it behind him. He must have been looking for signs of rust, given where they just came from. 

Dimitri turned his attention back to the flames. He prayed Byleth was alright.

He was so unbelievably strong, yet, Dimitri could only imagine what his love had to be going through. Was he being taken care of at least? Given food and water? Or were they starving him, perhaps hoping to torture knowledge from him.

Dimitri scowled at the fire, Byleth would die before endangering anyone. He prayed they got to him before it came to that.

They had no time for resting, they needed to keep going. 

Already too much time had passed, if they did not hurry, it could be a month or  _ more _ before they did find him. He did not think Byleth could live a month without at the very least water. What if he fell into another sleep? Would it take another five years for him to awaken?

Dimitri pulled his knees to his chest and rested his forehead upon them. 

Byleth could take care of himself. He had to trust his Beloved would hold on until they found him. Even if they found him asleep, Dimitri could deal with that. So long as he still was alive, Dimitri would rest easy. 

“Goddess-Mate.”

Dimitri raised his head, when he met the Saint’s eye he nodded away from the fire, Dimitri sighed. He pushed himself to his feet, and secured Itzel to Juniper Axe, then followed the dragon from the fire.

“Indech, do not harass him.”

“I won't,” Indech waved his brother off, and when Dimitri fell in step beside him, he led them out toward a cliff face. 

The valley below was sprawling. No signs of humans, no village, no people. The grass was green and while hard to see with the sun down, Dimitri could pick out pops of faint color from flowers.

“What do you want?” Dimitri groused, he was exhausted and had little patience for whatever bullshit this overgrown lizard was going to pull. 

Instead of speaking, Indech sat down and hung his bare feet over the cliffside. Dimitri remained standing.

Heavy silence settled between them, then Indech spoke, “What is your name?”

“Did Seteth not tell you it already?”

“Yes, but I wish to hear it from you.”

Dimitri narrowed his eyes at him, then sighed, “Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.”

Indech nodded, “Very good.”

After the air stilled between them once more, Indech glanced over his shoulder at him, his eyes reflected light like a cat’s did. It was unnerving.

“Let us spar.”

Dimitri snorted, “Why? Felix was the one that desired to fight you.”

“Yes, he will get his turn. However, it is you I wish to know.”

“So you want to fight me, to get to know me?” Dimitri snorted.

Indech pushed to his feet, “You can learn much from how a man carries himself in battle. You are wary of me, as am I of you. So, let us fight and see our truth.”

Dimitri did not know if fighting would be in either of their best interest. Sure, Dimitri desperately needed an outlet, but he had been doing  _ so _ damn well controlling his anger. He feared if he let loose he would be unable to reign himself back in. 

“Come, I know a warrior in need of reprieve when I see one.”

He wondered if it would be sacrilegious to refuse. Dimitri relented and stopped by his horse to grab the silver lance he had  _ not _ broken. Indech carried no weapon.

“I will not fight an unarmed man,” Dimitri stated, and Indech laughed.

“I am armed, fret not little warrior.”

Dimitri bristled at his tone, he could faintly hear Seteth groan from the fire, as well as Felix’s irritation at not being first to have a go at the giant dragon. 

Dedue stood, the others were primed to stand as well, each staring at them with focused eyes. Indech blinked and smiled, “You have your subject’s loyalty.”

“They are my friends,” He snapped.

Indech nodded, “Good.”

He continued to walk from the fire, and Dimitri spoke to them, “Rest, I am fine.”

They hesitated, but one by one, began to relax again. Dedue sat, but did not allow Dimitri to leave his line of sight.

Indech brought him down a series of small delines to a more open and far less precarious area. He noted they were beneath the cliff Indech had brought him to initially, he also noted the small crowd that formed along the edge. Indech gestured for him to stand where he was, then crossed the field until he was a good distance away. 

“I trust you will come at me with your full strength, yes?”

Dimitri scoffed.

“Good, I will not hold back either, then. Let me see what you can do, Goddess-Mate.”

The air chilled as dark scales crawled up Indech’s arm. He closed the distance between them and Dimitri barely had the chance to get out of the way when the dragon lunged. He stepped left, then swung down to where scales had not yet covered him, Indech was too fast and jumped from his strike.

“What happened to not holding back?”

Indech laughed, “Very well.”

A thrum pulled through the air, light cracked between the gaps of the scales covering Indech’s body. His true form burst from the human’s body, and when his forelegs slammed down, the ground trembled beneath his weight. Delight sparked his veins at the sight of the beast before him, Dimitri adjusted his hold on his lance.

Indech’s head rose to his full height, without the water to hide his full form, Dimitri realized just how towering he was. 

His legs were his weakest point, they had the fewest scales protecting them, he noted. He rushed forward, and narrowly ducked under a swing of Indech’s massive head. Dimitri stabbed the silver into the tender flesh of the dragon’s leg, and the creature laughed.

It had not given way as much as Dimitri had hoped, and he was forced to abandon his weapon to escape being crushed beneath his claws. Indech pulled the lance from his leg, a thin trickle of green escaped the wound, and he tossed it aside. 

Dimitri would have to retrieve it before anything else. 

Water washed over his feet, and before he knew it, spires of water shot up on all sides of him. He grit his teeth as the frozen tips tore through his armor like paper. Indech swung his head to bite at him. Dimitri would now allow himself to be caught so easily. He rolled beneath his jaw, and took the chance to make a break for his lance. 

Water surrounded him again and Dimitri managed to dodge the worst of the attack, though he still felt ice pierce his arms. He skidded to a stop and grabbed his lance in hand.

Indech was slow, but his armor was thick. 

Dimitri drew a steadying breath as he watched Indech turn to him. The dragon’s breath came out in plooms of mist. 

He had no hope of defeating him, not in truth. Dimitri knew his strength. If he wanted to even have a  _ chance _ at winning this battle, he needed to tire the dragon out. Dimitri charged forward and used the slicked grass to his advantage as he skidded between his legs. 

Indech reared back, and Dimitri slashed at his ankle. It did little damage, but it got the hulking creature to turn around. 

He ran around the side of his shell. Roll from ice, duck under his head. Stab up into the softer flesh at his joints. 

Dimitri could taste the sweat upon his lip. 

Indech was not as slow as he had anticipated when his head barred down a second time. Pain splintered his vision as his back met the hard clifface. Stones dug into his flesh, and he fell to the ground. He spat blood from his mouth, and used his lance as a crutch to stand.

Indech rumbled his pleasure.

Nothing was broken, though he could feel the joints in his bad hand stiffen. He would be unable to take another hit like that.

_ “Given up already, Goddess-Mate?” _ Indech rumbled,  _ “Will you relent so easily in the face of those who harmed your lover?” _

Anger laced his veins.  _ How dare he? _

Dimitri charged forth with a furious howl, Indech danced back. Far more nimble than something of his size should have been, his attention was drawn to the water that swirled around him. He was using it to help him move. 

He charged the dragon again, Indech ducked down and grabbed his lance between his teeth. Dimitri was face to eye with the beast. Dimitri snarled, and broke the lance within Indech’s mouth, and used the end he still had to pierce the flesh beneath his jaw. 

Indech whirled back with a howl, the half not stuck in his flesh fell from his open mouth. Dimitri ran to grab it as Indech whirled upon him. Water swelled around his feet, and Dimitri allowed it. Spires of water and ice erupted around him, caging him from escaping as Indech brought his teeth down to end the fight.

Dimitri stopped his mouth between hand and foot, pushed it open, and situated the tip of his broken lance upon the roof of the dragon’s mouth.

Mist filled his vision, teeth dug into the tender skin of his hand. He could feel it scrape against bone, yet the mouth did not close. It trembled in his grip, he could feel the push of the dragon’s muscles, but he managed to keep it open just long enough to kick his lance into the back of Indech’s throat.

He fell back as jaws clamped shut, a mere breath away. 

Indech started to gag, he shook his head and began to choke. Indech managed to dislodge the lance, as his breaths became more steady, and he spat the bloodied tip onto the ground beside Dimitri’s collapsed form.

Indech regarded him, then sat back on his haunches and grinned.

“Well done, Dimitri.”

Pain coursed through Dimitri’s body, but he forced himself to stand. He wobbled, only to be caught by an arm. Indech stood before him, humanoid, and nodded once at him, “Protect your mate with that same vigor.”

“I will protect him until my dying breath,” Dimitri hissed. 

Indech nodded, and slung his  _ definitely _ broken arm around his shoulder, and led him back up the cliff and away from their battlefield. 

Linhardt and Mercedes tended to their wounds. 

Indech sat beside him when his wounds were cared for as Linhart scolded him for battling recklessly. Dimitri eyed the Nabatean, Indech eyed him back. 

The man offered a hand to him, Dimitri stared at it, then took it with his own. Indech grinned, “Well fought, Brother.”

“You as well.”

* * *

They traveled north.

Dimitri could feel the tension begin to get to him. They had been gone for well over three weeks now. They were wasting time, Indech did not believe Macuil would join them, why bother trying? It was time that could be, should be, spent finding Byleth. 

He found himself having to count more often to keep himself from lashing out at anyone.

Sylvain led them by the quickest route through his territory to the desert, and they scaled the mountains that separated them from the sands. Claude led them from there, he knew where the temple was, apparently.

Or at least had a good word on it’s location.

It mattered little, so long as they got there quick, Dimitri did not care.

The deeper within the desert they traveled, the more stifling the heat became. Dimitri removed his cloak and the less vital parts of his armor, many followed his example. The days were sweltering, and the nights were freezing. 

Why anyone would make such a place their home was far beyond Dimitri. It was awful.

Their fifth day in the desert was fruitful, when they came across ruins. 

Seteth dismounted a good distance from the decrepit entrance, Dimitri slid off as well. No one brought their holy relics with them as they approached the temple. Or, what was left of it.

The sand swirled around them, Dimitri had to shield his eyes and mouth, lest he suffocate on the small grains whipping around their heads. They continued forward, until they reached the eye of the sandstorm.

A golden dragon stood there. He was feathered, more lean than Indech, though stood as tall, the sun refracted from his feathers in bright lights. He remained where he was, and stared them down. Dimitri could feel the hatred pour from his veins.

_ “Why have you come?” _ The dragon growled, the sands around them swelled, then fell to the ground. The storm had stopped.

“We need your help, Macuil,” Seteth responded, he brushed sand from his jacket, “The Goddess incarnation has been captured.”

_ “Serios’ little  _ **_experiment?_ ** _ ” _ Macuil spat,  _ “I care not.” _

“Macuil,” Indech tried, “Even if you could care less about the humans, this could endanger our people as well.”

_ “And if it does we will wipe their filthy remains from this land, as we should have years ago.” _

“Macuil, have reason! Do you not want to prevent the creation of more relics?” Seteth cried, and Macuil charged him, stopping just short of attacking his own brother.

_ “If you  _ **_truly_ ** _ cared what happened to our people, then you would have killed those filthy blood-suckers when you saw them!” _ He howled, and turned upon their group,  _ “They bear the blood of the elites, and you dare to bring them in my presence?” _

“They had no control over what their ancestors did!” Indech snapped, “Do not hold them accountable for things they were not alive to witness.”

_ “And yet they still use our blood for their own desires,” _ Macuil hissed,  _ “Why would these ones be any different?” _

“Unlike you they are willing to risk their lives for one not of their own kin!” Seteth spat, his teeth shone sharp in the harsh rays of the sun.

_ “Only so they can use that… creature, for their own gain, no doubt.” _

Dimitri had enough, “That  _ creature _ has a name!”

Macuil whirled upon him, eyes wide and laced with fury. The dragon approached him, his beak opened as licks of flame curled from his teeth,  _ “You dare speak to me in such a tone, you murderer?” _

“I do.”

_ “As foolish as you are bloodthirsty, Blaiddyd. What do you plan to use it for then? Hm?” _

“I will not use him for anything,  _ Byleth _ is his own man,” Dimitri snarled back.

_ “Oh-ho, so the creature had given itself a name?” _ Macuil’s breath reeked of sand and death.

Dimitri fought to keep his anger from overwhelming him. 

“Enough Macuil, we will leave,” Seteth growled.

_ “You expect me to let these monsters live? After all they had done?” _

“They are not responsible for the crimes of their ancestors!”

_ “It does not matter, the blood still runs through their veins.” _

Dimitri sensed danger and immediately scrambled back from Macuil’s beak. The dragon roared his fury,  _ “You cannot be allowed to live!” _

The feathered monster lowered its head and charged at them, but skidded in its tracks when faced with a mountain of brown and green.

_ “You will  _ **_not_ ** _ harm them, _ ” The dragon above them spoke, loud and rumbling. Dimitri could not see the dragon in it’s full, as it stood over them, yet the jagged scales that decorated it’s arms and underbelly reminded Dimitri of the scales Seteth had briefly back at the lake.

_ “You dare stand with those monsters?” _

_ “Yes,” _ Seteth growled, his head lowered and the glint of a golden crown of horns shone in the sun, Dimitri could see massive fangs peeking from his open mouth.

_ “Pathetic, no different than our sister.” _

_ “You are a disgrace, these humans would give their own  _ **_lives_ ** _ to protect one of our own, yet you do not have the same honor,” _ Seteth’s head rose from Dimitri’s vision,  _ “You once had been so proud to fight for our people, for their people. When did you become nothing more than a bloodthirsty brute?” _

Macuil reeled back as if he had been struck, Seteth turned away from him, and lowered his head. Brilliant green eyes studied them, the swirling white and brown markings surrounding his almost feline face reminded Dimitri of a tiger.

_ “Go, there is nothing for us here. Mount your steeds and head south, Indech and I will follow shortly.” _

They needed no further convincing. When night fell, Indech and Seteth joined back with them, their grief hung upon their faces.

Dimitri gazed upon the flames once more.

He missed Byleth.

* * *

They turned back to the monastery, and Dimitri was furious.

Though his anger simmered when shouts were heard from inside, “Don't shoot it!”

The group ushered their pace to a sprint, Dimitri jumped off Juniper Axe, “What is going on here?”

One of the monks’ scrambled to Seteth and he, “A wyvern, we think it was the Archbishop’s, has returned. No one can get close to it, it’s almost killed three of our best riders already.”

“She could know where he is,” Seteth murmured, then, “Take us to her.”

Sure enough, before the stables, Dagur had her wings spread in an act of dominance, and snarled at anyone who grew too close. Her yellow eyes darted between those surrounding her, and she screeched.

Dimitri held up a hand before Seteth moved any further, “She knows me.”

“Move back, you are only agitating her,” Dimitri commanded, as he stepped forward. 

Dagur snarled at him, Dimitri did not falter. She was shielding something with her body, Dimitri could not make out what it was, but she was protecting it. 

“Easy, we are looking for him, he will not leave us again,” He assured, Dagur lowered her head to meet his gaze, and slowly, but surely, bowed to him and allowed him close.

Dimitri knelt down to her talons, and she lifted them.

Byleth’s cloak, no sign of the man himself, but his cloak was there.

Dimitri pulled it from the sand, blood splattered over the white embroidery of Byleth’s dragon form. He buried his head in the moose fur, it still smelled faintly of him, but also of clay and ash. Dimitri prayed Byleth was still alive.

Dagur’s growls kicked up again, and he felt the weight of the scales protecting her underbelly fall upon his back. Seteth rose a brow at her, and she fanned her wings out further, her head lowered. Dimitri reached up and rested his hand upon the side of her neck, her growls quieted, but she did not move from her position over him.

“What is it?”

“Byleth’s cloak.”

Seteth cursed, “That won't do us any good, he had already taken it off before he transformed.”

“What was the  _ fucking _ point then?” Dimitri snarled despite himself, “What was the point in wasting all that time to leave, if we would have just returned anyway?”

“I had hoped our journey would give us better tracks.”

“Your hope fell through, they could be  _ torturing _ Byleth now,” He hissed, and Dagur started to growl again, “Now what do we do?”

Seteth did not meet his eye, “There is one other thing short of trying to tear Fódlan apart, it may not work, but if it does it could save us months of searching.”

_ Months? _

“Byleth does have any more months!” Dimitri stood and brought the cloak to his chest, “He could have mere  _ hours _ left and all we have done is waste time!”

Dagur snapped in Seteth’s direction, the man bared his teeth at her in a hiss, though she did not back down again.

“Calm Dagur, then meet me in the chapel.”

When Seteth left their sight, Daur stopped her growling, and rested her head upon his shoulder with a huff. Had she always been this friendly toward him? Dimitri had never thought to really interact with Dagur, he reached up and rubbed the side of her face, as he had seen Byleth do many times. The wyvern melted into his touch, and tension left her body.

“It's alright girl,” He assured the both of them, “We’ll find him, if it's the last thing I do, I’ll save Byleth.”

The wyvern crooned, Dimitri wasn't sure if she was reacting to his words or his voice, but she seemed content either way.

“Ashe!” He called, after a beat, the grey haired man appeared, he hesitated when Dagur turned toward him, her body tense. Dimitri rubbed her face and spoke, “Show me where the wyvern stables are.”

“Gotcha, they’re this way.”

He trailed Ashe, and Dagur followed him through the monastery. She was largely calm unless someone drew too close, but no longer seemed to be panicking as she had. Dimitri wondered what she had seen, where she had gone.

When Dimitri got her settled, he left the stables and descended the stairs down to make his way to the cathedral.

Ashe left his side somewhere along the way, so when he walked into the nearly empty cathedral, he stood alone. Seteth lifted his head and nodded his greeting, then turned to what he had been tending to upon one of the pews.

As he approached, he noticed the splash of light hair sitting there, Seteth kelt at Flayn’s feet and was using some sort of magic to heal a patch of exposed muscle. She was pale, and looked moments away from fainting, Dimitri felt his heart clench. 

Flayn saw him and held her hand out, he wordlessly stood beside her and gave his hand for her to squeeze as she fought back tears while her father worked. Indech sat beside her, his brows furrowed, no words were spoken. Dimitri lifted his attention from Flayn to Rhea, she stood at the end of the cathedral room, near the statue people prayed to.

Dimitri wondered what went through her mind, and why she was not the one healing Flayn.

Seteth let out a heavy breath, and re-wrapped Flayn’s leg. It looked better, but the new skin was raw and undoubtedly painful. Dimitri hoped rubbing his thumb along her knuckles soothed her, at least a little. 

Flayn looked up at him with teary eyes, “I’m sorry.”

Dimitri frowned, “For what?”

“It-It was because of me. This was all because I couldn't- I wasn't strong enough to protect myself!” Tears freely poured down her face, and Dimitri kneeled at her side.

“This is not your fault,” Dimitri assured, “This isn't anyone’s fault, not really.”

“B-But Father had to leave Byleth behind because of me.”

Dimitri glanced at Seteth, the man had stood, though he did not meet Dimitri’s eye. 

It had been wrong to blame this on Seteth, he knew that. In the heat of the moment he just needed someone to scream at,  _ someone _ to blame. Seteth had been a convenient target.

He rested his forehead against the arm of the pew, “Your father did what was right to protect you. Byleth would have rather been captured and had you two live than either of you fall.”

Flayn sniffled and wiped at her eyes with the heel of her palm, “What do we do?”

Dimitri rose and turned his attention to Seteth, who directed their attention to Rhea, “There is… A possibility… Though slim… We could contact Byleth, or Sothis.”

“How?”

“Would you yell at me if I said prayer?”

“Yes,” Dimitri groused.

Seteth sighed, “Sothis, and by extension Byleth, is connected to us. While still not meeting his true strength, there may be a chance we could… For lack of a better word, summon him into ourselves, to find out where he was taken.”

“Then why am I here?”

“Ideally, it would not come to that, but Byleth is likely very weak. He may only operate on base instincts and if that is the case, he would only reach out to one he trusted.”

“So you say he doesn't trust you?”

Seteth grunted, “No, not that. He loves you as you do him, it is hard to explain. He would be more willing to give a part of himself to you, than to I, Rhea, or Flayn. Much less Indech, who he will not know. Provided he is the one in control of their strength.”

Dimitri released Flayn’s hand to run it through his hair, “So you are saying he has… Absorbed Sothis’ power?”

“Yes and no. It is…” Seteth drew a hand down his face, “If Sothis still holds their power, she would likely reach out to one of her children. If Byleth holds their power, he would be more likely to reach out to you.”

That made no sense, but Dimitri relented and nodded along anyway.

“Come, let us go to the tomb,” Rhea spoke for the first time since he had returned. 

Her posture was stiff, but she said nothing else as she left the main room to proceed down the halls and stairs that led to the holy place. Dimitri sighed, and followed after her. Indech lifted Flayn upon his back, and fell in step beside him, Seteth at their heels.

“Is… It wise to bring Cethleann into this?” Indech questioned, and tilted his head back to Seteth.

“No, but she would not take any other answer.”

“Byleth is family too, I don't want to just lay in bed when there is something that I can do to help!”

Dimitri appreciated her enthusiasm.

It had been a very long time since anyone had been down in the tomb, and it showed. The stones were dusty and there was a vague scent of mildew coming from somewhere within the walls. Still, they continued down the stairs further until they reached the main chamber. Where all the crest stones were kept, untouched, and unmarred.

Dimitri wondered if the crest stones themselves were alive.

What a horrid life that would be, to be trapped within darkness for eternity. He prayed that was not the case.

“I do not see why you did not burn them as we have the others,” Indech spoke, his voice lowered to almost a whisper.

“I had hoped we could revive them,” Rhea responded, and waited for them by the casket.

“We know that isn't possible now, so why keep them here?”

Rhea’s brows furrowed, and turned her attention to the open coffin, “There are still things to try, I could make-”

“No,” Seteth cut her off, “We have discussed this. No more.”

She frowned, but did not continue her sentence. Instead, she knelt upon the steps, her white gown splayed around her, and hung her head in silence. Seteth sighed, and did the same. Indech set Flayn down, and helped keep her upright while they both hung their heads as well.

Dimitri had not prayed to the Goddess in a very long time.

Not since Duscur, in truth.

What Goddess would allow such horrid acts to be committed on her land without punishment? Why had he been the one to suffer with the burden of revenge? A Goddess that had been asleep for a very long time, he knew now. Still, Dimitri did not know if he would ever get over that initial sting of bitterness he felt toward Sothis. 

He ran a hand through his hair and drew in a steep breath. 

It had been conditioned into him from a young age, as the sole Heir to the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, yet, even as he intertwined his fingers together, it felt… Well frankly it felt foolish.

This whole situation felt like a waste of time. Time that could be spent finding Byleth, and yet, if this was a way they could somehow contact him… Dimitri had to try. Praying to Sothis felt wrong, but praying to Byleth did not feel as so.

Weird, sure, but not as wrong.

He tried to bring his mind to focus only on his breathing, and thoughts of Byleth. Was he scared? Did he need help? Were they too late?

Dimitri would have given anything in that moment to hear his voice again.

Nausea overcame him as a tidal wave. He stumbled forward, his head pounded like a wardrum, his blood boiled within him. Pain unlike anything that could ever be described overcame him as he felt the world spin around his body. 

He was cold, the stones were so, so cold.

He was moving, but he couldn't see, nothing but the purest black met his vision. Dimitri tried to claw at what blinded him, yet he could not move. It was too hot, the harsh sun beat upon his flesh. He tasted clay upon his tongue as he was dragged across the ground.

Something was binding him down, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't-

Everything was silent.

Then, everything was loud, far too loud. There was shouting, he did not recognize the voices. Where were they taking him? Even without seeing, the world continued to spin around him.

He was in a cave, somewhere underground? The chains upon his neck were too tight, his vision became spotty again. There was laughter, black armored books stepped before his half-lidded eyes. He recognized the smell.

The Death Knight stood before him, bare of his helmet, but it was him all the same. There was another, on his other side. Grey hair and black eyes, two lines down the side of his face. A red gaze far from human.

Behind him, Hubert stood, he didn't look right. His body was not right, he wasn't right, there was something wrong with them both, he didn't-

The world went black again.

More shouts, he was warm now?

The fabric beneath his body was soft. He could breathe again, yet when he opened his eye all he saw were blurry shadows hovering around him. Dimitri threw up.

He registered being moved, something going into his mouth, angry mutterings of a man that’s lost too much. Something had his hand, they were holding it. The touch was cool and soothing, his body was too hot, he was too hot.

“—rising! Get me a wet towel!”

Was that Seteth? No, it was a woman speaking. Who was she?

_ Manuela. _ It was Manuela.

When did she return from Enbarr?

The hand holding him tightened, he heard more voices, more shouts. Something cold was pressed against his head. His lungs seized as he fought to breathe, and he threw up again. 

“I am going to  _ kill _ that man when I get my hands on him,” Seteth’s warped voice cracked, “That bastard!”

Everything went black.

_ Well, this just will not do. _

_ Come now, get up. You have had your dramatics, now you have a very important job to do. _

Did… He die?

_ Oh for the love of- _

_ That is not what matters now, little King. Your Byleth needs you, though fret not, I will scold him appropriately for this mess. _

_ Now then, be thankful for this gift I am granting you, and wake up. _

_ If my children ask, tell them Sothis sent her regards. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HECK THAT WAS A LONG ONE. Thank you all for sticking with me through it, and I am so happy to hear how much of you have enjoyed the story so far! It just,,, warms me heart and really helps keep me motivated, thank you!
> 
> Next chapter will be from Byleth's POV, so look forward to finding how what our dragon lad has been up to, and maybe getting some questions answered on what they want from him, and how the poor lad is holding up.
> 
> Then, as always here my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/vulturepops) and [Tumblr](https://disastergays.tumblr.com/)


	14. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One would think, as a being that could control the flow of time himself, Byleth would have been immune to losing track of the days. Yet here, in near complete darkness, chained to the floor, Byleth found himself wondering how long he had been there. Had this current bout of isolation been mere minutes, or had it been hours? Perhaps even a day?
> 
> Byleth couldn't be sure.
> 
> TW: this chapter contains depiction of mutilation and drugging, proceed with caution

Just out of reach, water trickled from a gap in the rock. The result of an underground spring, most likely. Also why the base was probably built here, and not in an already made system or building. The puddle was close, he could smell the water.

Yet, from where he was chained, Byleth could not reach it.

How troublesome.

His throat burned for relief, it had been quite some time since he had a proper amount of water. Mere glasses snuck between rounds were not enough to sate his thirst. Enough to keep him alive though, and for that Byleth was grateful.

The click of armor echoed through the cavernous hall outside his prison, followed by the rustle of glass, and the crank of wood pulling chains. He already could not move from where he was chained, Byleth felt locking him behind  _ two _ gates was just being dramatic.

When the final gate lowered, Byleth could take in his visitor.

Ah, Jeritza was back.

The death knight walked to the side of his head, and set the tray of water and raw meat down. Byleth tilted his head as much as he was able to survey what was brought, more meat this time. 

_ “Do not get foolish.” _

The man snorted, and used his cold gauntlets to pry open enough of his mouth to tip the water down. It soothed the pain, if only a bit, the chain that had been wrapped around his mouth had begun to dig into his flesh days ago. If he crossed his eyes, he could see specks of blood peppering where the binding pressed flush to his scales, just shy of his beak.

“You should be thanking me,” He slid a dagger from his boot.

Jeritza started chopping the meat, without the ability to chew because of the chains, any food he got needed to be swallowed whole. They both found that out the hard way when Byleth nearly choked to death on chicken.

“It has been a week,” Jeritza brought the paste to the side of his mouth and eased it between the gaps of his teeth, “Do you truly believe they will come for you?”

Jeritza knew the answer already, so Byleth did not respond. 

He hummed, and brought another handful of meat to Byleth’s mouth, “You have a lot of faith in them.”

_ “Of course I do.” _

“Do you believe Rhea will come?”

Byleth shrugged as much as his bindings allowed him,  _ “I do not know. Dimitri will, as will my lions.” _

“What will stop him from killing you then?” Jeritza rocked back on his heels, perched beside his eye as an animal, “I would rather not be a slave to Nemesis.”

_ “I will find a way to free you, Jeritza.” _

The man did not respond, and instead eased himself down to sit beside his head properly. A comfortable silence filled the air. Different than what he could share with Dima, but it still brought comfort to him in a time of stress. It brought comfort to them both, he knew. 

_ “Any updates on his plans?” _

“None that I have been informed of,” Jeritza grunted, and leant back against his jaw. The sharp ends of his armor dug into his flesh, it stung, but Byleth did not comment.

_ “No one else has been taken?” _

“Just you. Your companions escaped, Nemesis does not seem to plan to test his luck elsewhere.”

_ “Good.” _

Jeritza scoffed.

Silence settled over them once more. Byleth basked in the presence of another, until Jeritza pushed to his feet and grabbed the empty glass and tray.

“We should start considering ways to escape on our own, your pet king may not find us in time.”

Byleth bared his teeth in a snarl at his tone.

Jeritza rolled his eyes, and left the room. The clank of wood and chains echoed as the gates were brought back up. 

He was left in the cold again.

Byleth wondered where his lions were. He prayed they were safe, he hoped Dimitri had not lost his mind again. Dimitri was so strong, he was an incredible ruler, yet Byleth feared what grief could do to him if he was overcome again. 

He had to have faith that the support and work Dimitri had done would be enough to keep him strong.

Byleth missed him greatly, even if just once, he selfishly longed to see him before whatever Nemesis had in store for him came to fruition.

* * *

Footsteps drew Byleth from his haze. They were muffled, but heavy. He heaved a sigh as the gates were drawn down, and the old fuck himself stepped though. Byleth snarled at him, as much as he was able, and the man paid him no attention.

“Stick him,” Nemesis commanded, and a thinner man in full armor scooted up toward his head. 

Byleth hissed and turned his head to snap at the coward, they yelped and scrambled away from him. Though the chains keeping him to the ground prevented any further movement. They dug into his skin and feathers, but he was not going to allow himself to continue being drugged so easily.

“Must we do this each time?” Nemesis grunted, “Your fight would almost be admirable, if not so foolish.”

He felt a harsh tug on his head, and a leather boot pinned his jaw to the ground. Byleth hissed and tested the strength of the chains holding him. The stone beneath him groaned and ached and he writhed, white flames spit from the edges of his mouth. 

Yet, the magic they had blessed his bindings with held strong. Byleth could not break them.

Nemesis pushed further down between his nostrils, the tip of his beak scraped against stone, Byleth wanted nothing more than to kill him.

Still, he was weak, and tired himself out. He felt the sharp sting of a needle pushed in the soft spot between his jaw and neck. The man pulled back, and Byleth’s world spun. Everything became a blur.

There was some talk, he could hear the annoying rumble of Nemesis’ voice, though the words blended and swirled together into something he could not understand. He could hear the rumble of wheels, were they going to move him again?

Something was drawn, it sounded like a blade, steps were too close to his ear. Too loud, he growled, though they did not falter their movements. There was a horrible grinding sound beside his head, metal against bone. Byleth could not figure out what was happening until the pain hit him.

Agony blossomed from the side of his head, he tried to pull away, but was kept in place by too many hands. He writhed, fought, snarled, and kicked out, claws dragged against stone. Yet the grinding pain did not relent. Nausea came to him in waves, he desperately tried to shake them off, but only more hands came to him.

Grabbing at him, pulling on his flesh and his feathers. It was too much, too many people, too many hands. He did not know any of their scents, did not know who they were. There was a crack, and another wave of agony assaulted his skull. 

It burned, where they had cut. They hauled the horn away on the wagon they brought, and left him alone in his pain. He tried to press the wound against the ground, in hopes of cooling the pain, yet the pressure only served to make it worse.

Byleth fell limp, and willed himself not to panic. If he went into shock he would die, undoubtedly. Eventually, the sharpness dulled into an uncomfortable throb. 

Byleth realized he could not feel some of his toes, that was probably not a good sign.

* * *

“Wake up.”

Byleth opened his eye to stare at Jeritza, then closed it with a huff.

“Stop pouting, this will help.”

Byleth did not feel like cooperating with him, so he snorted and turned his head from the death knight. Jeritza groaned and set another tray down beside his head.

When he heard the sound of a bottle corking open, Byleth’s interest was piqued. He turned to eye the vial, and watched in curiosity as Jeritza slid off his gauntlet and glove to dig his fingers into the salv. 

“Hold still, this may hurt,” Jeritza scooted toward the sawed-off nub where a horn once was.

_ “Comforting,” _ Byleth groused, but remained motionless all the same.

The salv burned when pressed against his horn. Like the burn of whisky over an open wound, it sizzled in his brain. If it kept him from getting an infection though, it would be worth the pain. Byleth wondered where Jeritza found the stuff.

“They're trying to make a relic out of your horn.”

Byleth snorted,  _ “Without my crest stone it will be nothing more than a shiny sword at best.” _

“They are testing if your horn will accept other crest stones.”

That was odd. Byleth had always figured one could not make a relic without the heart and the bones of the same person. Would it even be possible to combine them? 

_ “Have they any luck?” _

“I know not.”

Jeritza unwrapped some bandages from the messy pile he had thrown into his satchel, and wrapped the tender bone. The cloth pressing against the exposed nerves was horribly painful, but he knew it would keep the salv from getting rubbed off as easily.

Not that Byleth could move much now, in truth.

Byleth flinched when the bandages were tied off far too tight, still, it was better treatment he would have gotten elsewhere, so Byleth found little room to complain. Jeritza pulled back, his bare hand hovered above Byleth’s head. After a heavy pause, the man muttered to himself and pulled his hand away, shoving the pale skin back into his armor.

Oddly, Byleth would have welcomed the touch to his face. He… Missed contact with others.

He would not request such a thing from Jeritza though, the man had just been freed to be thrown at the feet of another captor. Byleth could not imagine this was easy for him. If Jeritza wanted physical touch, Byleth would supply it, but he would not ask for it.

Jeritza gathered the items and left the room. 

He was cold.

* * *

Not Hubert was his next visitor, it seemed.

Byleth barely had the energy to growl at him, instead, he ignored the mage’s presence, and continued trying to nap. The man fiddled with something near his tail, Byleth resisted the urge to see if he could smack him with it. Probably not, and if he could, Byleth did not feel like having  _ more _ chains on him.

Instead he let his mind wander. He longed for Dimitri’s presence, he would know the words to say that’d soothe his fear and talk away Byleth’s pain. He missed his warm hands and gentle smile. 

He longed for his friends. They would heal his wounds and embrace him as he craved.

There was a sharp prick against his tail, and Byleth’s fantasies were ruined by Not Hubert’s shenanigans. He curled his tail away from the man, and the mage grunted in response. It seemed he had got what he wanted, as he left shortly after. Without any light or ways to count, Byleth wondered just how long had passed since he was brought underground.

Jeritza was right, he needed to start planning his own escape. Perhaps they thought him dead? Byleth had no idea what the scene he was taken from looked like, perhaps there was a lot of blood. Perhaps Nemesis had left a decoy body?

Byleth tested the strength of his restrains, to find them once more immovable. The rock they were embedded in had begun to crack though. He may not be able to free himself of the chains fully, but if he could at least get enough leverage to wiggle around, he may be able to work with that.

His magic was sapped dry, so long as they kept him pumped full of that drug, he could not use anything more than a weak flame. Would there be a way to tamper with the dose? If he got just enough for him to become human, he and Jeritza would have a chance of escape that way.

Unless the chains shrunk with his size, in that case, he’d be worse off.

Byleth pulled his chin against the stone, irritated that his brain would not function as he needed it to. He wasn't as sharp as he should be, he could feel it. His mind would come and go in bouts of clarity. Who knew what happened when he was unconscious.

He decided he needed to better tune the rough schedule he had of them in his head.

It was easier said than done. His consciousness did not seem to operate on a schedule, frustratingly enough. So, he relied on Jeritza for outside information, but like he, the man was plagued with magic that sapped him. Trapped within the armor upon his body.

“They have three mages and a smith working on the horn they took from you,” Jeritza muttered, and shoved the meat paste into Byleth’s mouth.

Byleth wasn't sure if he’d be able to enjoy beef or chicken again.

“They are crafting it into a shield.”

A shield. Made sense, his horns were strong, he had learned that much. Even without the power of a relic to embolden it, his horn would still make for a tough to break shield. A valuable item regardless if the experiment panned out.

And if it did, they would come for his others. Maybe more.

Byleth hoped they took his claws instead, he had long since lost feeling in his forelimbs. Probably not good, but Byleth did not have the mental space to give it any consideration past that.

Jeritza peeled the bandage from his horn, the pain largely left him, though the exposed end was still quite tender. He slathered it with more of the stinging salv, Byleth rumbled his thanks.

“The chains are connected to Hubert, somehow. If he were killed, their power would cease.”

_ “Not Hubert,” _ Byleth corrected absently, though did bring his words to consideration. 

Kill the  _ wrong _ mage, he would be free. 

Yet in his misty thoughts, Byleth did not think even if the magic was lifted, he would have the strength to break through the chains. They likely betted on him eventually finding a way to kill Not Hubert, and kept him drugged so as to keep him weak.

Byleth felt sick. 

He felt his head get pushed, and drool leaked from the corners of his mouth, a hand brushed his cheek as he heaved. The metal was cold, and did not soothe him as the hand of his Dimitri would have, but it was something. He leant into the strokes, acutely aware of how starved he had become for affection.

Jeritza sat with him until the world was blanketed black once again.

* * *

Nemesis stopped by, again.

Byleth growled the moment he smelled the stench of rotting flesh and clay.

As the man passed through the gates, he held a shield on his arm. It pulsed red with energy like a relic did, though the shield itself had retained the original opalescent sheen to it as his horns did. Had he not been looking upon a part of his own body, he would have admired the craftsmanship.

“Turns out you will be very useful to us indeed.”

Byleth snorted.

“We can craft weapons from you and use any crest stone we want within. They do not reject your body, how intriguing is that?”

Byleth did not respond, and only stared at the man. The…  _ thing, _ before him. He had perhaps once been a man, but he was that no longer. A puppet, not even realizing it was being pulled by strings.

Pathetic.

“Stick him,” Nemesis called, and the same scrawny coward came out with a needle. 

The usual song and dance ended with Nemesis’ boot upon his head again while he was struck with more of that horrid concoction. It worked faster, this time. He barely remembered the searing pain he felt in his leg before all faded to black.

* * *

“They used your scales to craft a chestpiece.”

No longer were they limited to weapons, it seemed. Only a matter of time before they took too much and killed him. How long had passed? 

Jeritza lathered the bare patch of skin with some ointment, he wondered where he was finding them. Perhaps he was given them, under the assumption he would be keeping Byleth alive as they harvested his body.

“It behaved like a relic,” Jeritza continued, and wrapped his leg, “It will be not much longer before they take your bones.”

_ “I know.” _

“I can not kill the mage.”

Byleth knew that whatever magic they sealed Jeritza with, left him unable to harm them. A sort of mind control, that only affected the body. The mere implications of such made him sick. It would be up to Byleth to kill Not Hubert, yet, he was never unbound. He had no chance for attack.

They made careful planning for that.

He was cold.

He must have shivered, as Jeritza stood and sat beside his head. Tentatively, a hand reached out and clawed over the feathers along his cheek. Byleth closed his eyes, and allowed the man the comfort. It was not a gentle touch, nor was it a particularly soothing one, but Byleth understood the man was new to affection. He could recognize an attempt at soothing.

Byleth wished Dimitri were beside him. The man was always so good at brute forcing his way out of the toughest of situations, as impractical as it often was. It was needed now, they had no chance for planning, no strategies that could be used. 

They needed raw strength, and between keeping him drugged and Jeritza on a tight leash, there was not a lot to work with.

He longed to fall asleep and listen to his heartbeat again. He could remember the rhythm as easily as if it were his own. Perhaps, in a way, it was. The only heartbeat Byleth would ever truly know.

Though in truth Byleth hoped Dimitri never found them, he feared what sort of power Nemesis held, and he feared what that power could do to his people.

* * *

One would think, as a being that could control the flow of time himself, Byleth would have been immune to losing track of the days. Yet here, in near complete darkness, chained to the floor, Byleth found himself wondering how long he had been there. Had this current bout of isolation been mere minutes, or had it been hours? Perhaps even a day?

Byleth couldn't be sure.

He did not even have Sothis to speak to, not really. Byleth missed her. 

When the sound of heavy footfalls outside his prison came, Byleth found himself almost excited, despite recognizing the pattern as Nemesis. He watched in silence as they lowered the two gates down, Nemesis strolled in with his slaves, a couple holding torches to illuminate the dark cave.

“You’ve surely realized you will not make it through your time here alive, yes?” Nemesis inquired, despite his question, there was a notable  _ lack _ of sadism. Rather as if he were sparking up a conversation over a pint with old friends.

Byleth did not respond, he did not deserve his words.

Nemesis snorted, “Hmph, very well. I shall cut you a deal, monster. I know you can speak, tell me where the others of your kind are, and I will kill you here and now.”

Byleth rose a brow, he certainly was not driving a hard bargain. He could at least  _ pretend _ to offer him his freedom in exchange for knowledge. He did not speak, and Nemesis narrowed his eyes.

“You do not seem to realize what I am offering. I am giving you the chance to die a swift and relatively painless death. Should you not take my mercy, you will be picked apart piece by piece until your body eventually gives up on you.”

What a foolish offer, Byleth snorted. He turned his head away from Nemesis, and took a modicum of pride in the man’s furious exhale. When a horn was grabbed and his face pressed to the ground, Byleth did not struggle, only bared his teeth in a feral grin at the bastard. 

“Cocky little shit, aren't you?”

Byleth let out a wheezy hiss in response.

Nemesis scoffed and released his head, then turned to the group that had followed him in, “Take his blood, we will need a lot.”

The slaves skittered around him, all hesitant to come too close. 

“ _ Now. _ ”

At Nemesis’ impatient growl, they descended upon him. Byleth did not bother to put up much of a fuss as they stuck thin needles between gaps in his scales to bleed him out. All was silent, and Byleth’s world began to blur. He growled and attempted to shake them off, though he found his limbs too heavy, and his world spun into darkness.

* * *

He awoke at the nudge of something cold just beneath his eye. 

Byleth jolted with a snarl and swung his head at his attacker, though he met armor and a grunt as he knocked Jeritza onto his back. He stared at the man for a moment, then lowered his jaw to the ground and puffed out a soft,  _ “Sorry.” _

Jeritza grumbled to himself and sat up, “You are lucky I had already put your tray down.”

When Byleth rumbled his agreement, the man pulled out a knife and began chopping up the red meat. They sat in silence for some time until Jeritza found it fit to speak up once more, “Nemesis has been using your blood in experiments.”

Byleth grunted.

“He tried to inject it into some of his servants, they died.”

That was odd, Byleth tilted his head,  _ “Why?” _

Jeritza shrugged. Byleth wondered how his blood could kill them, what made  _ his _ blood toxic? Was it not through consuming the blood of the Nabateans that granted people their crests? How was it different now? Byleth rubbed his jaw along the ground, frustrated at his lack of answers.

He stopped his irritated pouting when Jeritza roughly grabbed a corner of his mouth and started shoveling food into it. Byleth allowed it, but when they escaped from their prison, Byleth was going to have to teach him some manners. 

He did not allow ‘if’ to plague his thoughts. They would find a way, or, if nothing else, he would find a way to free Jeritza. 

Somehow.

Jeritza washed the meat down with some much desired water. Not enough to truly soothe his aching throat, but it helped, and allowed him to swallow easier. When he set the cup aside, Jerita’s gauntlet smacked against his cheek again, and the pointed tips of his armor dug into his skin as he raked his hand down his cheek. It was a piss-poor attempt at petting, and frankly, rather painful.

_ “Take your gauntlet off.” _

The man jerked back, muttered to himself again, then stood and gathered up the plate and mug back onto the tray. Byleth sighed, and amended,  _ “It did not bother me, however your gauntlet is sharp, if you did it with a bare hand or gloves, it would be more pleasant for the both of us.” _

Jeritza stared at him, shifted his weight from foot to foot, then scoffed and shook his head, once more leaving Byleth in silence. He sighed, perhaps it had been too soon to correct Jeritza on his rough touch. He would be able to gauge the man’s reaction better, Byleth figured, after he had some time to digest his words. So he did all he could when faced with the darkness, tried to get some rest.

* * *

Byleth grew tired of seeing Nemesis. He did not intimidate Byleth, not truely, but seeing him always meant some sort of pain for him, and Byleth did not appreciate that.

He was with someone new though. The man wore armor that obstructed his face, the helmet seemed to have been constructed with the inspiration of a dragon. Though Byleth had yet to meet any dragons with four eyes.

“Restrain him while we remove the chains from his mouth.”

The man nodded and pinned Byleth’s head to the ground, Byleth tested his grip, and found it to be unusually strong. He snorted, and did not like the way he smelled. Something familiar about it itched the back of his mind, like Dimitri’s own scent, but  _ wrong. _

Nemesis and two other armored men removed the chains from his mouth, and Byleth figured he may as well take his chance and attempted to lunge at them with an open maw. Yet, he found himself thoroughly pinned with a grunt from the bastard holding his head down.

Byleth thrashed against the man’s grip, but it held strong. Had he truly grown so weak that someone could pin him? Byleth’s breath came out in a sharp whistle, but he relented and allowed Nemesis to open his mouth.

“Stick him,” Nemesis commanded one of the people that had filed into his cave, then cranked his mouth open further, and shoved some block of wood between his jaws. 

So he was going to take his teeth now? Byleth did not struggle much as he felt the frustratingly familiar sensation of a needle shoved into his skin, followed by the wave of nausea and dizziness that accompanied it. 

He felt his skull get pulled as Nemesis grabbed hold of one of his canines, “This one, it is the largest.”

He released the tooth, and Byleth rumbled a laugh when he could taste a tang of blood from Nemesis grabbing his sharp canine. He stepped aside and as well expected at this point, searing hot pain blossomed from his mouth when a slave used some sort of blade to cut into his gum around the desired weapon.

Byleth struggled, though between the fresh dose of drugs and the man pinning him to the ground, there was little he could do but hiss and wheeze as they cut away the gums from his bone, then yanked the tooth out. 

The agony was indescribable. His nausea hit him in another ferocious wave, and Byleth coughed. Through his blurry gaze, he could spy Nemesis, grab the tooth and hold up to a torch to examine it. The bloody bone was nearly as long as the man’s forearm, he seemed pleased, and wrapped it up with some sort of cloth. 

“Suture it closed, if he gets an infection that will damage the quality of the others.”

Byleth no longer had the energy to resist as he felt needles break his gum, and pull the wound shut. It burned. His head flopped numbly to the ground when he was released, he could already feel the swelling in his mouth from the sore. The chains went back around his mouth, not that he could have been much of a threat to them now, in truth. 

They left him in blessed peace. Byleth coughed again, then attempted in vain to get some rest.

* * *

Byleth wasn't sure what woke him up, and yet he found himself impossibly aware. 

Upon stilling himself, he searched for signs of footsteps, unusual sounds, yet all he could hear was the familiar trickle of water from the crack in stone. There was something heavy in the air, that Byleth could not quite place. He was unsure what had sparked his fight response, but he was alarmed all the same.

It was odd, he could feel something. It felt like sound, yet was not heard. Whispers for safety and answers. 

What was happening?

Byleth rubbed his face against the ground, he would not let his mind play tricks on him. He needed to remain sharp and aware.

Dimitri.

Byleth wasn't sure how, but he could feel him. He wasn't in the room, Byleth could not pick up his scent or even the sound of breathing, yet Byleth could feel him all the same. Seteth had once mentioned in passing that their kind formed intense psychic connections with their family. Byleth did not understand what he meant then.

Perhaps… If he… 

Byleth rested his jaw on the stone and drew in a deep breath, perhaps if he reached back he could contact Dimitri. Warn him of the danger happening around him. It would not stop him from coming, Byleth knew, yet he hoped it could serve as a caution. Byleth prayed he did not rush in blindly.

Then, agony. It was not his own, Dimitri was in pain. Why was he in pain? What was happening to him?

Byleth began to panic, he pulled on his chains, he needed to get out. Dimitri was in trouble. The chain around his neck constricted, and Byleth gagged as the iron choked him. His hind talons dug into the stone, he could feel the rock give way to his claws as he pushed. His bindings creaked under the pressure, the metal rattling against himself as he writhed and and fought.

He would not let Dimitri down, not again. Byleth could not just lay there as Dimitri suffered.

Then nothing. Just silence. 

Byleth redoubled his efforts, he pulled and scratched and screamed. Dimitri was in danger, he could feel it. 

His struggling must have made a ruckus, as the gates were lowered, and Nemesis with his slaves filled in. Byleth snarled at him and continued trying to break his binds, to no avail. He managed to uproot some of the bindings from the floor, though the chains themselves were fully intact to Byleth’s frustration. 

Nemesis shouted something and Byleth hissed, he swung his head in a wide arch when the masked man that smelled almost like his love approached. He knocked the man over, and bared his teeth. 

“Stick him,  _ now!” _

Byleth was swarmed. He swung his tail and head as far as he could, knocking down soldiers in his sweep, eventually he was pinned and a needle shoved behind his jaw. Byleth couldn't breathe, the chains were too tight. He kicked out where he could, but the impossibly strong man kept his head down as the drug forced its way through his system.

Dimitri was in danger. 

Byleth snarled and tested his luck rolling away from the men surrounding him. It worked, though he was swiftly pinned once more, this time by multiple people. Black spotted his vision, his lungs burned for air. 

There was arguing as his consciousness faded away, then… Nothing.

* * *

_ You are an idiot. _

Byleth wasn't sure where he was, but it was peaceful, still. Familiar.

_ I can not believe you, why, if I were not so worried for you myself I’d yell at you right here right now. _

Sothis? It was Sothis. 

Byleth became aware of existing in darkness, he still was a dragon, yet was not flying, nor was he standing. Simply… Floating. Before him, a mirror of his own appearance, white feathers with an owl-like face stared at him, through the six horns that curled around her skull were still intact.

_ You forget your strength, Byleth. _

_ I saved your Dimitri, but you must know, a human could never hope to host the strength of a Goddess. Your presence within him, no matter how brief, would have killed him had I not stepped in. _

Seteth said-

_ Yes, we have a strong bond to our family, to other Nabateans. They can withstand our strength, but a human? Did you not wonder why those that drank your blood perished? _

Then how did Nemesis drink from you before?

_ I was not alive. Had I been, he would have died as the others did. Other Nabateans can share blood with humans because they do not have our power, Byleth. _

Byleth would have to make sure Dimitri knew that, lest his biting got a bit too excited. A shame, really, Byleth had rather liked the feeling when his thigh had been-

_ Ew, gross. Keep  _ those _ thoughts from your mind whilst I am here. _

He was not sorry.

_ The amount to gain a crest or immortality is far greater than a… flirtatious nip, could ever draw. But please, I implore you to not imagine such illicit activities while we are talking, for my sake, you nasty man. _

Byleth laughed, he felt lighter now, knowing Dimitri was safe.

_ Dimitri should not be the forefront of your concerns, Byleth. _

Dimitri would always be his priority. He could feel the Goddess roll her eyes.

_ Those monsters moved you. I fear they plan to kill you, for your recent episode. Even with chains binding you to the floor, enchanted ones at that, you caused quite the ruckus. Likely not worth the effort of having you alive to experiment on any longer. _

_ I fear they may try a ritual on you, should it succeed… We both would be wiped from the world, permanently. _

Death does that to someone, yes.

_ No you fool! There is still life after death, for me, and for you. What they will do is erase us, it will upset the balance of this world.  _

_ Should it succeed, there may be a chance Nemesis and his lackeys would be able to drink from your blood and gain further power. It would spell death for anyone within his sights, including your precious lions. _

_ That _ was a problem.

_ Oh good, glad to know where your priorities lie. _

He was selfish, he cared for those important to him. Simple as that.

The goddess shook her head, and the world began to warp. 

_ You must wake now, see if that Death Knight of yours knows any way of escape. I fear your people may not come in time. _

* * *

When Byleth woke, he was hot. There were more chains now, keeping him thoroughly pinned, no longer any movement in his neck or tail. He was pressed to the warm stone beneath him as what had to have been the sun blared overhead. 

He squinted while his eyes adjusted to the light. Ruins, was the first thing that came to sight, there was something familiar about them, Byleth could not place what. His eyes scanned the horizon, he was on some sort of altar, he gathered, multiple pillars sprung up around him, where chains were attached. Byleth gave a gentle tug, and found them quite immoveable. 

There were sounds, Byleth could not recognize them all, though he could pick out voices, and the screech of vultures far above his head. 

He was in a canyon, of sorts. 

The stone steps surrounding the altar were disturbed as Jeritza rose to his line of sight. The man held food and water, though a significantly smaller amount than he had grown accustomed to. He imagined it was harder to sneak food for him when Byleth was kept in the open, as he were.

Jeritza crouched beside his head and began to chop the meat for him, “They are planning to gut you.”

Byleth snorted,  _ “Unfortunate.” _

“It is not a time for jokes, Professor.”

Byleth had not been joking, but he did not say that. Instead, he narrowed his eyes at the man,  _ “When?” _

He shrugged, and Byleth did not pester the man further. It was harder to shove food down his gullet, as the chains over his mouth and end of his beak were tied tighter than before. Still, Jeritza managed to shove it between the gaps of his teeth, if only barely.

The water was largely a wasted effort, though Byleth appreciated the attempt.

He allowed his eyes to close in the presence of more or less friendly company. Sothis was right, they would need to formulate their own escape, somehow. Even if it simply meant having Jeritza make a break for it, and pray for the best.

His eyes opened at something warm pushing against his cheek. 

Jeritza’s gauntlet and glove were off, and he was (poorly) petting him with a bare hand. The touch was akin to a toddler patting a dog for the first time, slapping and dragging his hand down the feathers instead of brushing over them. Still, it was a marked improvement from getting clawed by his armor, so Byleth closed his eyes once more and did not complain. 

Some time passed, and Byleth had a thought,  _ “How familiar are you with Fódlan’s geography?” _

Jeritza’s hand stopped on his horn, “Enough.”

_ “How far can you be from your captors?” _

“A fair amount, but the armor gets tighter the further away I am.”

Byleth rumbled,  _ “As you can, try to get an idea of where we may be. I’ll need as accurate of a layout as you can give me.” _

“Are you planning your escape finally?”

_ “No, I will not be able to escape, but if we are clever, we may get you out of here before I perish.” _

“You are a fool.”

_ “Perhaps,” _ Byleth agreed,  _ “I would rather not die if I can help it, however, I also know without outside help I will be killed here.” _

Jeritza pulled his hand from his horn and slid his glove and armor back on, “I will report back with my findings. Do not die before I return.”

Byleth snorted a laugh,  _ “I do not believe I have a choice in that matter.” _

The man’s face went through a myriad of emotions, then settled on carefully neutral, “Die, then.”

Byleth would endevor not to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this is a super short chapter, but writing for Byleth was so much fun.
> 
> Next chapter will probably be another long one though, a LOT is happening, so everyone buckle up, the ride is about to begin.
> 
> Last but not least, feel free to come check out my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/vulturepops) and [Tumblr](https://disastergays.tumblr.com/)


	15. To Safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri could not say he understood, but even so, he pulled his dagger from his belt and slit open his own palm. The blade burned against his flesh when he cut, the open wound tender. Dimitri clasped Indech’s hand with his own, and the dragon pulled Dimitri down to press their foreheads together.
> 
> “Enansal Eth Din’ann,” Indech spoke, and intertwined their fingers, “Be safe.”

Dimitri wasn't sure when the shift from his friends being company whilst he was bedridden to being his babysitters happened, but it was wholly unappreciated. The wooden slab set upon his lap was covered in paperwork, apparently coming back from the dead was not enough of an excuse to get out of being a King for a week.

At first, Dimitri imagined he had hallucinated Sothis’ voice as his body failed him.

But no, he had died, stopped breathing, no more heart-beat, everything. Then he just… Woke up. His body was horribly weak, and it frustrated him to no ends. Yet there was nothing he could do, it was a waiting game now. Flayn sat on his bedside, reading over some old book Dimitri couldn't recognize, whilst his current babysitter, Ingrid, made sure he continued doing work.

About half of their people had left to scour Fóldan—possibly beyond, to try and find locations that matched the rough descriptions he gave. 

Dimitri crumpled up a proposal letter and tossed it to the far wall, his patience was no longer enough to bother with pleasant formalities. Ingrid snorted, though she did not correct him on his behavior, so he figured he could get away with it for now. His temper was already on a dangerously short leash as it were.

He was a mere breath away from just grabbing a blank sheet of paper, declaring he was engaged to Archbishop Byleth, and just pinning it to the front gate of his castle. 

Actually, it would be an effective way to hopefully stop the nonsense. He may just do that, when they found Byleth.

There was no  _ if _ in his mind, he couldn't afford to consider any ‘if’s, only when. They would find him, and they would save him. Dimitri refused to even entertain the possibility of not. He couldn't.

Manuela entered the room with Dedue on her heel, both carrying a tray of food. Ingrid and Dedue shared a look, then Ingrid nodded to Dimitri, “Get well soon, Your Majesty.”

She left, and Dedue took her place. Dimitri set the paperwork aside in favor of the food, Flayn Hovered over his shoulder, given how her pupils dilated, he’d wager the food he got was fish-related. Manuela directed her attention away from his food with her own serving of the same meal. 

It was nice to see that even with the knowledge of what Flayn and Seteth were, their treatment had not changed. Manuela still looked at the young woman, easily ten times her age, as a little girl that needed to be watched over. Dimitri couldn't say he blamed her.

“Any word?” Dimitri asked, and instead of eating the stew, stole a sip of water.

“Some of Ingrid’s people have returned to no avail, we have not heard from the scouts south, or west. Claude himself left this morning to join the search, he apparently was up late last night and has a hunch on the location.”

Dimitri nodded, good. Knowing Claude, his ‘hunch’ was formed after hours of research. He knew where Byleth was, and was going to confirm it himself. It helped ease Dimitri’s fears, they wouldn't be too late.

It was odd, he remembered very little about what he had seen before passing out and, apparently, dieing for a moment. Dimitri could not figure if such was good or not, as when he asked for Seteth to recount what he had said, and the state of how Byleth was, Seteth stated he was uncomfortable with doing such.

He informed him Byleth was alive, and  _ that _ should be what mattered now.

Dimitri could not wait to face those bastards head to head. He would rip them apart for what they’ve done. 

“Dimitri,” Dedue’s voice was even, and he offered another fork to replace the one he had bend unknowingly in his grip, “At least eat some of your food. You will not gain your strength back without it.”

Dimitri made a show of looking at the warped silver in his hand, but still exchanged the cutlery without further fuss. He could walk now, as far as Dimitri was concerned, that meant he could train. Apparently though, he was incorrect in that, and no one let him leave the room.

Being in the Archbishop's room without Byleth felt… Wrong. Yet, the man himself had declared it as  _ theirs. _ It warmed him to know that when he no longer needed to be within the infirmary, he had been moved to this room. Even in his absence, it smelled like him. 

He finished the bowl of stew and handed it off to Dedue, he took the trey and left the room. Dimitri pulled the book Byleth had been reading through before he was taken from the drawer of his nightstand. He cracked the pages open, and frowned at the foreign language.

“Where did you find that?” Flayn’s gasped from beside him. She set her food down and crawled to perch beside him in the bed, “I have not… I have not seen one of those for a very very long time.”

“Byleth found it in Edelgard’s palace.”

“Incredible.”

Dimitri handed the book to her, “Can… You read it?”

“Of course I can! It is written in Nabatean.”

Dimitri turned the pages to the one Byleth had marked, “What does this page say?”

Flayn gasped, her eyes grew comically wide, “I… Wow.”

She held the book closer to her face, then set it back upon his lap, “The words are pretty faded, but I do know this is the form Sothis once held when she lived. And, well, is what Byleth looks like now.”

Dimitri peered down at the massive dragon, he longed to see more detail. All he could tell was that the four-winged dragon was long, lithe akin to a snake, and had six horns that curled around it’s head. Past that, he could faintly make out the sketch of eyes, but any color or detail in them had faded with the sun.

“He is… Very large.”

“It is a  _ bit _ of an exaggeration, well, at least for Byleth. Sothis could have been that big for all I know,” Flayn shrugged, “But he is easily bigger than my father, and even Lady Rhea’s true form. Why, when he turned for the first time it was quite enjoyable to watch him attempt to learn how to maneuver his limbs. He was horribly clumsy, he flopped around like a fish from water for quite some time!”

Dimitri’s heart ached at the thought of missing such important events in his beloved’s life. Once he had him back,  _ nothing _ would take him from Dimitri’s side again.

Dedue returned with Ashe, Dedue took a seat and Ashe dragged over a stool to sit beside him. They both looked pale, “We have news.”

Dimitri sat up fully, and set the book aside.

“Claude just returned, he… He found Byleth.”

Dimitri’s eyes widened, and immediately tossed the covers from his legs, “Then we must leave, now.”

“Claude is reporting to Seteth, then… Um, he’ll come talk to you. We can  _ not _ rush in.”

“Why not?”

Ashe hesitated, so Dedue stepped in, “From what Claude described, Byleth is in very bad shape. If we charge without a plan, they will likely finish what they started before we have a chance to do anything.”

Ice laced Dimitri’s veins. 

“Claude did not tell us the details, I believe he is saving them for Seteth, however…” Dedue frowned, “From his expression, Byleth dangerously injured.”

Dimitri’s words caught in his throat, he couldn't speak, he could not force his mouth to say what he wanted. Instead, he laced his hands upon his lap and waited. Each second that ticked by, Dimitri found his frustration and anger rise. He counted, it helped, but it was no longer enough.

They were so close to saving his Beloved, so close.

And yet he was told to just wait? To sit by while Claude took his time wandering through the monastery with the knowledge that would save Byleth?

No, he wasn't doing that. Dimitri  _ knew _ he wasn't. 

But it was so hard to continue to wait in a suffocating silence.

Finally, the door swung open, Claude, Seteth, Indech, and Rhea filed in.

His head jerked up, and Dimitri swung his legs over the side of the bed, “Where is he?”

Seteth sighed, and crossed his arms, “Zanado.”

The red canyon? He had been  _ this _ close the whole damn time? Dimitri rose, “We leave at once then.”

Indech held a hand out and stopped him from going too far, “Hold on, there is more.”

Claude spoke, “Byleth is chained to some sort of altar, the area was surrounded by guards. There is no way for us to charge in without being noticed.”

The mere thought of his Beloved in chains shattered what little restraint he had left. He jerked his hand from Indech’s grip and hissed, “I do not care if we are seen! The longer we waste time here the longer Byleth will have to stay there!”

Seteth interrupted him, his voice laced with a distortion Dimitri recalled hearing when he spoke to them as a dragon, “ _ Enough. _ If we just charge in they may kill him. We must come with a plan of action, a way to secure Byleth’s safety before we mount an attack properly.”

“And if we stay here, they  _ will _ kill him!”

“No, not immediately. We have time, not much, but enough to properly prepare for an assault,” Seteth bit back, “The ritual they are performing will take time, we must take advantage of that to make  _ sure _ our rescue is successful.”

Dimitri tried to count, he tried to focus on breathing, he tried to absorb Seteth’s words. The man was right, Dimitri in his core knew that. Yet, it did not stop the blind rage he could feel seeping from every pore, from his very being. Dedue’s hand steadied him, but it did not soothe the anger.

“Fine, gather everyone to the war room, we will have a meeting at once.”

Seteth puffed out a hot breath of air, but nodded, “Very well.”

He turned on his heel and left, Indech and Rhea behind him. 

Rhea had been eerily silent the entire time. Dimitri did not trust that, not one bit. Perhaps he was being paranoid, it was pushed from his mind as Flayn handed him some proper clothing to wear. Dimitri almost wanted to shove it away and go straight to the war table, but he knew he should at the very least get dressed.

So he did, and was the first one in the room. 

The others arrived relatively fast, news spread, and everyone at the monastery filed in. Some were still out searching the land, but Ingrid had apparently already made short work of that, and they would be informed. They could not make it in time to come to the battle though, so for now, they were useless to Dimitri.

“Is he alive?”

Claude startled momentarily as he sat, then eased into his usual grin and pomp, though it was off. Dimitri could see the lines of his mask, the cracks in the clay he had so carefully sculpted. He did not comment though, and allowed Claude to get comfortable in the seat across from him before he spoke.

“Yes, he is.”

“How do you know?”

“When I flew overhead he opened his eyes,” Claude responded easily, “I do not know if he could see who I was, however, we were high up.”

Dimitri nodded, he recalled the sharp hearing his Beloved possessed, it would not be a stretch to imagine his other senses had heightened as well. He prayed Byleth knew they were coming for him.

“He was outside?”

“Yes, I could not tell how long he had been, nor the extent of his injuries, I did not have a scope on me.”

“How did you know it was Byleth then?”

Claude leaned back in his chair and snorted, “Unless there are any other giant white dragons hanging around these parts, I think we have a pretty damn good case. Besides, I saw his eyes. They… Were his.”

Dimitri believed him, and rested his face in his hands, “... How were his injuries?”

Claude’s voice lost it’s playful glow, “Couldn't tell the full extent but… He definitely looked underweight, there was a lot of blood, and he was…Ah… Missing some parts.”

Dimitri drew a steadying breath, lest he fracture his own skull in his hands, “What was he missing?”

“It was hard to tell for sure, but he was missing horns, maybe more. He was so chained up though, that obstructed a lot of my vision.”

“How many people were guarding him?”

“Him directly? One. Though the whole area was littered with guards, far too many we could hope to take out head-on. If we lured a bulk of the forces away with a distraction, we’d be able to run in, grab Byleth, and get out.”

“You are assuming he would have the strength to return to a human form,” Seteth interrupted, as he filled in with the remaining people. 

They all took their seats, he felt an odd sense of satisfaction that Rhea did not sit in Byleth’s spot again. It was empty, awaiting for it’s rightful owner. 

Claude frowned, “What are the chances of that being true?”

“Frankly, we best count on it being the case. I do not imagine Byleth would have made his capture easy for them, there is likely more at play than we could see.”

“Do you think they are using magic on him?” Flayn asked, her voice small as he took a seat beside her father.

“The chains are likely enchanted, yes. Past that, they could be doing any number of things. From starving to keep him weak, to drugging him.”

When everyone settled proper, Claude explained what he saw.

“In the canyon, there is a dip with a lot of ruins, in the center of those ruins is a stage, or altar. Big circular stone with steps leading up to it from all sides, there are twelve pillars, each had chains attached to them that were holding Byleth in place,” He explained, and crafted a crude map for them to work with.

“Byleth is on that altar, he is injured, but alive. I could not see the extent of his injuries however, so we will be going blind in that regard. Most of the guards kept pretty far away from Byleth himself, and were focused toward the entrance of the dip here, and what looked to be a cave system on the other side. They likely had kept Byleth in there before now.

“There was one guard with him when I flew over, without having the time to track rounds, I do not know if this is a usual guard, or when shifts rotate.”

“Could you get any defining features from the guard, appearance? Any tattoos?” Seteth pushed, Claude shot him a quizzical look, then furrowed his brows.

“I was far. However, from the armor, there is a good chance it was the Death Knight with him at the time.”

Dimitri could hear Mercedes’ wet gasp, followed by Annette’s attempt to soothe her friend. Dimitri felt for Mercedes, he did, but he would not show mercy when he faced the bastard. He broke Byleth’s trust by betraying him, and now as a accessory to this heinous torture, Dimitri would not allow him to live.

“Our best form of attack would be to direct most of their forces south, away from the altar and cave, then try and get to Byleth by coming down the cliffside here,” Claude proposed.

Lorenz waved his idea away, “Certainly not. If Byleth is unable to return to a human form, pray tell, how will we get him back  _ up _ the cliff?”

“We have four other dragons on our side,” Claude snorted, “They can carry him.”

“Our goal is to keep identities a secret, King Reigan,” Rhea reminded, her brow set into a deep furrow.

“I thought the  _ goal _ was rescuing Byleth?” Claude responded in a catty grin, though it came less as a smile and more of baring teeth.

Rhea opened her mouth, then closed it with an audible snap. 

Seteth spoke instead, “We  _ will _ transform if needed, but she does have a point. Should others find out of our identities, we all would be in grave danger. It is a last resort, not plan A.”

“My plan to lure them is still our best bet,” Claude stated.

“Who would lure them?” Hilda challenged, “Do we know if these guys are even human?”

Claude shrugged, and Hilda groaned.

“Get them running, it will not matter if they are human or not,” Felix grunted, and leaned forward on the table, “Put the loudmouths at the start of the dip, there, the rest of us can go down the canyon when the bulk of the forces are gone. We wipe out any stragglers, grab Byleth, leave.”

Lindhardt held up a hand, “While those ideas are well and good, sure, if the chains are enchanted, the only way to break their enchantment is for the mage that created them to release it, or to kill them. If we split them all up, how will we know who to target? The mage could very easily slip away at the first sign of danger.”

“Can't run away if we kill them all first,” Dimitri spat. 

The table turned to him as one, and he bristled under the attention, “What? You expect me to spare them, any of them? After what they’ve done, what they are  _ doing? _ ”

“No, they will get what they deserve,” Dedue spoke, “However, without a plan we will be leaving the Professor’s life to chance, are you willing to risk that?”

Dimitri shrunk against the back of his chair and drew a steadying breath, “You are right, thank you, Dedue.” 

The man nodded, and they continued to plan and bicker amongst themselves.

“That area is never traveled, no one goes to Zanado. Of course they would be suspicious of some people flying overhead, especially repeatedly,” Ingrid stated, “They would be stupid to think we wouldn't notice the  _ dragon _ beneath us. He would kinda stand out.”

“How else are we going to learn of their formations, or gather who may be the mage?” Ignatz worried the end of his thumb between his teeth.

“Perhaps if we took a ground-level, we could watch them from one of the cliffsides,” Hilda suggested, “Holst has done something similar before, and got good intel.”

“Sure, but we do not know if they patrol up there, if they did, we’d be good as dead, and the cover would be blown.”

“Not if you could get someone to teleport you,” Lindhardt brought up, “I may not be the best, but I am confident in my skills.”

“The cover would still be blown,” Dorothea pointed out, “Regardless of if they were caught, they’d know people were snooping. They could try bringing him underground again, then what?”

“I can not imagine moving Byleth could be done in just a couple minutes, hell, even just an hour or two,” Hilda snorted, “Claude  _ said _ he was huge.”

“They may be able to warp him though,” Ingrid insisted, “They have mages, or at least,  _ a _ mage that is strong enough to warp a group of people over long distances.”

“Yeah, but a  _ dragon? _ ”

Ingrid shrugged, and they continued to prattle on.

The lot of them were talking in circles. Always coming back to not being able to form a plan properly without knowing the guard rounds, but being unable to learn them because of their lack of time and knowledge of the area. That, and if they were caught sniffing around, it’d only endanger Byleth further.

Dimitri had enough.

He stood, “This is foolish, we are getting nowhere. Pack your armor and weapons, as well as rations and medical supplies, we mount an advance now. We will meet along the upper side of the cliff here, and form a proper battle plan then. We will accomplish nothing by staying here.”

“Your Majesty-”

“No. I’ve had enough, you cannot come to a decision without further information, information we could get were we in the field. Byleth is running out of time, I will not sit here any further and listen to you bicker as children. Get up, get packed, we leave before dawn.”

* * *

The canyon was hot, the sun bore down upon them from a cloudless sky. Under other circumstances, Dimitri would have appreciated the clear sight of blue, yet as they marched through the rocks and dust, he could not help but worry further for his Beloved. Has he had enough water? Surely under this heat, without proper hydration, he could fall very ill, very fast.

Claude beckoned them left and landed, they followed the steep path upward. Some of the steeds fought against the incline, forcing their riders to hop off and manually guide them. Juniper Axe stood strong, and they reached the top just as the sun dipped beyond the sky.

They set up camp a good distance from the cliffside, away from any potential patrols. 

Ingrid and Ashe left to look out for any oncommers, as they set up a council once more.

“Flushing out the bulk of the forces still may be our best plan,” Dimitri spoke, “We will split in half, when they catch signs of trouble, likely the mage will retreat in the confusion. My team will come down the cliffside here, it will be too steep for mounts, so we will have to go on foot.”

“What about reinforcements from the cave?” Indech pointed out, “They likely have shifts, we should assume we are looking at around half of their total people now.”

Dimitri frowned, his initial response would have been to just kill them as they come, but he could not afford to be reckless. They were  _ so _ close.

Perhaps, they could strike in the cover of night. That would grant them a bit of advantage, especially if they could do it at least somewhat silently, those sleeping within the cave may not awake. However, that could just put them at a disadvantage. It would be harder to pick out the mage in the confusion with the cover of darkness.

“Block the entrance,” Dedue suggested, “The rock around there is old, if we could find a way to cause a rockslide in front of the cave, that would stop reinforcements.”

“What if the mage we need is inside?” Seteth frowned, “We do not know the cave system here, there could be multiple exits.”

“Perhaps… But I think he may be right,” Indech hummed, “Block the cave to stop reinforcements and gain control of the area. They will not fully leave without the Goddess, I imagine. Even if there is another exit, we can send scouts to scour the canyon. It is not that large. Right now we need to make sure we can control the area around him, and assure we place a stop to any ritual that could be occurring.”

“And if they are  _ actively _ performing a ritual, the mage will be unable to physically be too far, as it would erase any progress they make,” Lindhardt’s eyes lit up, “Then when we have the area calmed down, we can trace the magic to wherever the mage is hiding, should it come to that.”

The flaps of their tent burst open as Ingrid and Ashe stumbled in, eyes frantic. Something wasn't right.

“We found Byleth,” Ingrid huffed out, and brushed away some of the hair that had fallen into her face, “We found him.”

“Good, is he still where Claude saw him last?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, however we did not come to report simply that.”

Ashe spoke up, “We need to get him, now. There was a lot of blood, Your Majesty, i-it doesn't look good.”

Dimitri did not waste time, “We move at once. Sylvain, you lead the distraction with Seteth and Rhea. Indech, Dedue, see what you two can do about getting a rockslide happening. I will lead the charge down the cliff once the forces scatter.”

“Understood.”

They flew out of the tent and began their preparations. Distraction first, then rockslide, then charge. 

Dimitri pulled his silver lance out, but hesitated when met with a thrum of energy from Itzel. He stared at the weapon, then pulled her from Juniper Axe’s back. She curled her fingers, the bone ground against bone to make a horrid sound, yet, Dimitri recognized the action.

“You… Know what you are asking… Right?”

The lance did not speak, but her fingers straightened and clacked together. Dimitri strapped his silver lance to his back, just to be safe, and readied himself for battle. If Itzel wished to come, who was he to deny her request?

A heady waft of blood drew Dimitri’s attention, Rhea and Seteth stood before each other, each of their palms cut open. Seteth held up his hand, and Rhea took it, the two intertwined their fingers and pressed their foreheads against each other. Their lips moved as they spoke, though Dimitri could not hear their words. 

He had never seen Seteth perform such an act before.

When Dimitri was nudged, he startled and whirled to face Indech. Confused, his brows furrowed, “Are you not preparing with Dedue?”

“Already set to go,” He offered his hand to Dimitri, a single cut along his palm. 

He glanced down to the wound, then back up to Indech.

“It's a battle pact,” Indech explained, “A tradition among our people before we charge to war. Sharing blood to honor that which we will spill.”

Dimitri could not say he understood, but even so, he pulled his dagger from his belt and slit open his own palm. The blade burned against his flesh when he cut, the open wound tender. Dimitri clasped Indech’s hand with his own, and the dragon pulled Dimitri down to press their foreheads together.

“Enansal Eth Din’ann,” Indech spoke, and intertwined their fingers, “Be safe.”

“You as well,” Dimitri muttered.

Indech nodded, and released Dimitri’s hand to join where Dedue and Claude stood. Dimitri looked down at his palm, smeared with blood. He debated wiping it off, but decided against it, as Indech did not. 

Sylvain had already led the charge east of them, where the narrow canyon opened up. Now, they had to wait. Dimitri took the chance to lead his own group up to the side of the cliff, near a small rock cluster, and crouch down. Ingrid lowered herself to her stomach beside him, and handed over a scope.

Not that he needed it, once he looked off the cliff.

Rage bubbled beneath his skin. A massive white creature, his  _ Beloved, _ had been tied down to a circular stage, pillars sprung up on all sides as Claude said, chains connected to each. Even without the scope, Dimitri could see the blood that caked the white of Byleth’s body, and the stumps where Dimitri imagined horns once were along his skull.

Four wings were spread out and forced open, notable gaps where they must have taken feathers from him were seen, hooks dug into the flesh there to keep them upright. 

Dimitri brough the scope to his eye.

A man stood before Byleth, their mage undoubtedly. He had a tome open in one hand, and his other lifted as black swirling magic curled between his fingers. Runes had been etched into the pillars and along the stone of the altar, many glowed an eerie red. Was Byleth still even alive?

His question was answered when the dragon stirred, and his eyes opened, a brilliant green rose from the mage to the cliffside. A spark lit in his eyes as he leveled them with his stare, Dimitri could feel his gaze upon them, he was alive. His eyes closed again, whether he was too weak to continue keeping his eyes open, or simply wished to avoid suspicion, Dimitri could not be sure.

Yet when an earth-shaking roar filled the air, Dimitri knew it mattered no longer. Byleth would be saved. He had assumed that they would have kept to their human forms, yet either Seteth or Rhea deemed it fit to transform regardless. The people below scattered, some fled to the cave, others charged to the source of the sound. 

The mage stopped whatever ritual he was doing, but the Death Knight prevented him from leaving. Dimitri could not hear their words, but he knew he would have to kill the bastard to get to their mage.

As the mage turned around, shock and confusion coiled in his gut.  _ Hubert, _ he was alive? He vaguely recalled seeing him in that vision, but he had figured he saw wrong. But no, that was absolutely Hubert. Dimitri did not think about it any further, he had far more important matters to focus on. 

The ground beneath them shook, and the cave collapsed in on itself. Screams filled the air, people attempting to flee before the walls fell in upon them, but few made it out. That was their signal.

Dimitri stood and wasted no time vaulting himself over a rock and running down the precarious path down the cliff. When he was sure he would not injure himself, he leapt off the side of the path and bore Itzel straight through one of those bastard’s skulls. Blood blossomed from the wound, and Dimitri yanked her out to intercept a blow from another man that swung at him.

His head split in a ploom of read when a throwing axe lodged itself in his crown. Dimitri kicked the body away and swung forth. One goal narrowed through his mind, to get to Byleth.

Anyone foolish enough to get in his way were cut aside by Iztel’s glowing blade carving through their armor like paper. A man with a lance managed to lock blades with him, Dimitri snarled and pulled the man close. His hand shot out and the man’s skull cracked between the fingers of his gauntlet. The blood was warm.

An arrow whistled past his face and buried itself in a charging swordsman, Dimitri ducked beneath another. 

Battle was a dance, duck, turn, lunge, kill. Dimitri knew the steps as he knew the scars upon his own hand. 

He had not expected another man to block a swing to another, and push him off balance. Dimitri used the butt of Itzel’s staff to keep himself upright and reassessed his foe. The mask the man wore covered most of his face, his chin smeared with blood. 

Dimitri charged forth again, their lances met with a tang.

He pushed forward, yet the man did not give. They stood there, locked against each other, Dimitri’s boots dug into the sand at his feet. Sweat slid down his cheek, the man’s breath reeked of decay.

Dimitri swung his head forward and slammed it against the metal of the man’s helmet. The skull-shaped armor buckled under the force as pain assaulted his senses. The bastard stumbled back, and Dimitri took his chance to swing for the kill.

His arch was stopped when the man reached out to grab the lance with a hand, and held it in place, if only just. He ripped his mask off and bared his teeth, blond hair and black eyes. Red shone from the vanact depths of his sockets. Something wasn't right. 

“You  _ dare _ use my own lance against me?”

Dimitri jumped back to distance himself from the creature before him. His lance?

_ His lance. _

“You  _ bastard, _ ” Dimitri’s grip tightened on Itzel, he could feel the way she pulsed with magic, “You did this.  _ You _ did this to her.”

The monster wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, and spat out a black mucus-like substance from his lips. Dimitri rushed in, his lunge intercepted by the lace the bastard bore. It shone an opalescent green, and did not falter under the strength of his charge.

His feet dug rivulets into the ground as he forced his body further, forced the lace closer to the monster’s throat. His lance held strong against Itzel’s might.

Dimitri felt himself get pushed as the man met him with his own strength. Dimitri tasted copper on his tongue. 

He could see Dedue from his peripheral, fighting closer to his side. He could keep this bastard busy himself, so he screamed at the man, “Do not worry about me! Get to Byleth!”

His momentary distraction was enough for the man to push him off balance, Dimitri stumbled back and managed to shield himself from a fatal blow with Itzel, if only just.

“You are one of my kin,” The monster spat, “Why are you helping it?”

“ _ He _ has a name,” Dimitri snarled, the lance inched closer to his neck. Stone ground against his armor and tore at his cape. 

“After what they’ve done, you still think those  _ things _ are worth saving?” The bastard pulled back and Dimitri rolled out from beneath his lunge. The spear lodged itself into the rock where his head once was. 

Dimitri jumped to his feet and was quick to retaliate with his own swing, he cut through the man’s armor and nicked his ribs. He pulled his lance from the ground and they were locked again.

“I care not what they’ve done  _ thousands _ of years ago,” Dimitri spat, “I only care to save Byleth from you monsters.”

“Their kind see us as dogs! You think  _ that _ creature sees you as anything but?”

Dimitri pushed forward, the man began to lose his footing, “You know nothing.”

The man’s eyes hardened, and their weapons groaned under the force pushed upon them. Dimitri would not let this bastard’s words affect him. He didn't give a shit what happened long before his time, he knew Byleth was hurt and in danger now, and that was what mattered.

Sand kicked up around them, a storm had moved in. 

Dimitri pushed the man further back, though could no longer get him to budge. Sand bore into his skin, against his face as the winds whipped around them. He would not falter.

The air trembled from the roar that shook the heavens. Another man was charging Dimitri’s side, he pulled back to block the coming blow, and used his hand to keep the shimmering lance from boring into his skin.

Blood dripped down his arm from where he held the blade of the lance in his palm, Itzel plunged into his assailent’s neck. 

The blade cut deeper, and Dimitri could feel his arm begin to give under the agony. He pulled Itzel from his other attacker, and used the bastard’s opening as a chance to bury her deep in the monster’s gut. There was a squelch of blood, and black ash swirled from the wound. 

Blaiddyd stumbled back, his hand pressed over the gaping wound. 

“You are a fool,” The man hissed between the black bubbling between his teeth. 

Dimitri flicked Itzel clean of blood and soot, he wasted no more words upon him, even as he collapsed onto his knees. Dimitri swung his lance, and the man’s head was removed from his body. The corpse fell to the ground and dissolved into ash. 

Disgusting. 

Dimitri charged forward, the storm only got worse the closer he got to the main body of the fight. It blocked much of his vision, was everyone well?

Black talons slammed onto the ground beside him, a human’s body crushed beneath the weight. Gold shone through the sand, and the gurgling roar of demonic beasts filled the canyon. Dimitri found himself pinned beneath one before he could blink. He pushed Itzel into the demon’s throat, it spit and gurgled and hissed.

Claws tore at the ground beside his head.

There was a heavy sweep of wind, then black talons and green scales came to grab the creature from above him, and crushed its skull between the fingers. Dimitri scrambled to his feet, and ran past the dragon.

He stumbled upon steps, and wasted no time scaling them. 

The further he climbed, the less sand there was. 

When he reached the top, Hubert stood with a hand up, shouting something in a tongue he could not recognize. He charged the man.

A scythe stopped his assault. 

The death knight.

Dimitri snarled and turned on the bastard, “How  _ dare _ you.”

“Kill Hubert, Byleth will be free.”

His words startled Dimitri enough he only just managed to block another sweep for his head.

“Incapacitate me, break my arms, my legs, kill me if you must,” The man’s voice was muffled through the mask, yet there was a desperation in his voice that threw Dimitri off. Dimitri shoved the man back, something wasn't right.

Dimitri charged forth again, and The Death Knight blocked his swing, pulled a knife from his boot, and buried it between the gap of Dimitri’s armor along his arm. Chains rattled around them, he could see Byleth try to move from where he was pinned.

Dimitri pulled the knife out and tossed it aside. He charged The Death Knight and knocked the man off balance enough to shove his heel against the man’s knee. Armor and bone alike buckled under the force. The scream torn from the man told Dimitri the bastard may never walk right again.

He left the man to suffer and lunged for Hubert. 

The man put up little fight, and a lance was shoved down his throat with little more than a push. 

He did not allow himself the chance to breathe, he needed to free Byleth from the chains. Byleth writhed in them, spitting hisses escaped where his mouth was bound, and Dimitri panicked. He dropped his search and ran beside his Beloved’s eye. 

He barely had a chance to speak before a blade flew forward and sliced through his palm. 

Dimitri’s head shot up, a man with tattoos over his eye walked through the swirling sand onto the platform with him. Dimitri readied Itzel as the whip returned back to it’s bearer.

It was no whip.

_ The Sword of the Creator. _

**_Nemesis._ **

Dimitri bared his teeth at the man and positioned himself before Byleth’s curved beak. He would die before he let this man get any closer to his love. 

They wasted no words upon each other as their weapons met. Despite Dimitri’s stance, despite throwing everything he had against the man, Nemesis still managed to push him back. Leather dug into stone as he was pushed further and further back.

Their breaths met in hot bursts of air, blood, clay, and decay. 

The chains behind him were deafening. Dimitri felt his heel meet Byleth’s beak. 

No. He wouldn't allow this, he could not let this monster get any closer to him. Dimitri did the only thing he could think of at the time, and spit in his face. Blood hit the man’s cheek, and he flinched back, it was little, but it was all Dimitri needed to push the bastard off balance enough for him to stumble. 

Dimitri readied his attack, but an arrow pierced Nemesis' neck. The arrowhead covered in black, shone through his jugular. The bastard coughed and hacked up soot, black puffed from his mouth. His grip on the Sword of the Creator tightened, and he lunged forward.

He did not make it one step before a golden head of feathers shot through the sand, and closed his teeth around the man’s body. Macuil bit down, and the man burst into an explosion of ash and blood.

The sand settled. 

Dimitri was speechless as Macuil spit out the soot left behind from his body, “Filthy.”

Dimitri was inclined to agree, but his mind left Macuil to the gagging behind him. 

Byleth.

The dragon had somehow managed to spin himself around so that a couple of the pillars had crumbled, but the chains around his neck were suffocating him. He ran to his love’s side and set Itzel down, he did not know where the device to release the chains were, so he did it himself. The chains were big, each loop as large as his own hand, but he gave himself no time to reflect on it. 

He dug his hands into the feather’s of byleth’s neck and pulled at the iron suffocating him. It creaked and groaned, but finally snapped. Dimitri pushed the chains as he could from his neck, the skin rubbed so raw blood caked the area. 

He broke another loop around his neck, and Byleth stopped heaving.

Dimitri tore at the ones around his mouth, and shoved those off as well. Byleth coughed, then, fell still. He collapsed to his knees beside Byleth’s head, he tore off his gauntlet to brush over the bloodied feather’s of his cheek, and Byleth’s eye opened.

His eye alone was half the size of Dimitri’s own body.

Green bore into his soul, then, the corner of Byleth’s mouth twitched up, the eye crinkled at the corners from the action. He was smiling.

_ “Dimitri,” _ Byleth’s voice was thunderous, the power shook him to his core.

He swallowed and curled his hand into a fist beneath his eye, “Byleth, I’m here. We all are.”

Shouts were heard from the base of the stairs, they had the battlefield under control. Steps grew closer as the former students climbed the altar to surround Byleth. Claude shouted something about a mechanism, followed by Hilda and Sylvain responding with yells of their own.

Dimitri could hear the groan of the mechanism keeping Byleth pinned, the chains loosened and fell limp around his body. Byleth’s eye was glossy.

He felt warmth behind him, something hard pressed against his back, and when he turned, massive white talons were pressed against him. The fingers were horribly broken, bent in ways Dimitri was positive they should not have been, while hard to tell from the mangled mess of a hand, Dimitri was fairly sure he was missing one. 

He turned back to Byleth, and the dragon heaved a heavy breath. His eyes closed and Dimitri patted his cheek, “Byleth, stay awake, please.”

Byleth hummed, the stone beneath them rumbled, he turned his head so his cheek pressed against the top of Dimitri’s hair. Dimitri rested his arm beside Byleth’s closed eye, it was as close as they could get to a hug now.

_ “I missed you, Dima.” _

Dimitri would hear the way his laugh warbled, the lump in his throat bitter and heavy, “I missed you too, Beloved.”

_ “I knew you’d come,” _ Byleth breathed, his eye opened halfway, and Dimitri found himself staring into the swirl of green and gold that painted his eyes.

“Of course I would,” Dimitri’s cheeks were damp, “Nothing would have stopped me, Byleth.”

_ “Can you turn?” _ Seteth landed on the steps of the altar, the stone creaked under his weight. He craned his head down to meet Byleth’s eye. The dragon smelled of the earth.

His scales were a deep green, almost brown in some places. Gold curled around his face as stripes, and continued down his body in streaks of light, a ‘mane’ of jagged spikes sprouted down his back and around his jaw. Dimitri was surprised how  _ little _ he resembled Byleth, much less his siblings.

Then again, they all appeared vastly different from each other.

_ “No, they… They injected me with something, Jeritza would likely know more about it. Regardless, it has sapped what little magic I have left now.” _

Seteth huffed and raised his head, Flayn flew past his horns and landed her pegasus beside Byleth’s mangled foot.

“Oh no…” She slid off her steed and trotted to kneel beside the talons at Dimitri’s back. She patted his wrist, and Byleth gurgled something akin to a groan, but slowly allowed her to guide the hand away from his back.

“We will need to heal this before you transform, so perhaps it is a good thing you cannot yet,” She muttered, and ran a small hand along the sheen of Byleth’s claw, “Are your wings broken?”

_ “Probably,” _ Byleth grunted and closed his eyes once more, Dimitri ran his fingers through the matted feathers. 

“I… don't think we’ll be able to heal your horns, they’ll have to grow back on their own. I hope the roots were not damaged,” Flayn sighed, then stood and ran down the length of his body to his back legs, “This is infected, um, that looks broken…”

Flayn prattled on as she seemed to tally all of Byleth’s injuries. Dimitri forced himself to tune her out, and instead focused on Byleth’s current comfort. Despite the injuries he sustained, his Beloved seemed almost content now. He feared what his capture had done to Byleth’s mental state.

The click of metal brought Dimitri from his thoughts, when he glanced up, he saw the Death Knight standing before Byleth’s nose. He leant heavily upon his scythe, and had the armor around his broken leg removed, replaced with bandages. Dimitri’s hand curled into a fist.

He did not move until the man hobbled a step forward, then Dimitri was at his throat with Itzel from one breath to the next. 

“Stay away from him,” Dimitri snarled, and forced the man to limp backward until Dimitri could firmly place himself between the Death Knight and Byleth, “Come any closer and I will gut you.”

_ “Dima, wait.” _

He froze at the sound of Byleth’s calm voice within his mind, he hesitated, though kept Itzel pointed toward the man.

_ “Jeritza was bound as I, were it not for him I would have likely died some time ago.” _

Dimitri glanced over his shoulder to Byleth, the dragon’s eyes were open, he saw no sign of fear or hesitation in them. So, with some admitted reluctance, Dimitri lowered the lance and allowed the Death Knight to limp to the other side of Byleth’s face. He stood there silently, just staring at Byleth.

It was unnerving.

Though it did not seem to bother his Beloved as the dragon’s eyes closed once more and a puff of air escaped his nostrils in a whistle. Dimitri returned to his position beside his love’s eye. Though this time he sat in a way he could watch as Flayn, Linhardt, and Mercedes gathered in a small circle, speaking amongst themselves. 

He could not hear what they said, but he imagined they spoke of how best to cure Byleth.

Not to mention, where would they take him to recover? The forest place again? If humans were able to breach it once, Dimitri did not trust the place was truly safe for now. Yet they could not return to the monastery, certainly not as he was.

Would they take Byleth to the village?

It may be the best location to allow him to heal but… Dimitri could not stand to be separated from him again. Not so soon.

Seteth and Indech joined the circle, Indech in heavy armor and Seteth in a simple tunic. Rhea and Macuil were nowhere to be seen. Dimitri wondered if they were speaking, he also wondered why Macuil even appeared to begin with. 

Did he not hate humans?

A man with green hair akin to Flayn’s and Rhea approached the growing circle around Flayn. Dimitri figured the man was Macuil, especially given how his eyes kept jumping between the humans before him, almost nervous in nature.

“We cannot bring him to the village,” Rhea spoke.

Both Indech and Seteth regarded her with a mixture of confusion and frustration. 

“It would be the only place we could take him safely,” Seteth groused, “I know he has not been yet, but-”

“We can't, not like  _ this. _ ”

“Rhea, his  _ health _ is far more important than presenting him as the Goddess Incarnation.”

“Of course, I do not say this as a need for proper introduction. We do not know what was done to him yet, there could be a chance that whatever happened may harm other Nabateans around him. We can not risk that, not until we know the extent of what was done.”

“He saw starved and drugged Rhea,” Seteth snapped, “It went no deeper from my understanding.”

“They crafted relics from him, we need to be cautious.”

“What would you propose we do then? Bring him to the monastery as he is? That would be an absolute mess!”

“Yes,” Rhea spoke, “We bring him back to the monastery.”

Indech and Seteth were silent, Dimitri imagined their surprise mirrored his own. Would it be safe for Byleth at the monastery? The secret of their people would be exposed, did she not wish to keep their identities hidden?

Macuil clarified, “There is a spring at the monastery that has the protection magic around it, yes? We bring him there to recover, then when he is able to shift back, bring him to the church.”

Flayn spoke up, her voice muffled by the thumb she bit, “The magic isn't as strong as the one around the forest, will it truly be safe for him there?”

“It will only be for a short while,” Rhea assured, “I imagine he will only need a week at most to recover enough to transform. From there, we can bring him back to Garreg Mach proper.”

“We can not leave him there unguarded then,” Indech murmured, “I can watch over him while he recovers. Just in case.”

“Very well, we all can rotate shifts, so he is never left alone,” Rhea nodded, a small smile rested on her lips. 

Dimitri rubbed his Beloved’s cheek, then stood to approach the group, “I will as well.”

Macuil stared at him, Dimitri could feel the disdain pouring from the man in waves, it mattered little though. He cared not for what Macuil believed or felt, Byleth’s safety was his only priority.

“I can keep him company too,” Claude interjected, followed by similar responses from the rest of the former students. 

“Very well, I have no doubt he will be safe now,” Rhea hummed, “We can work out details later, for now, let us move Byleth to the spring.”

Dimitri prayed Rhea knew what she was doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our boy is finally rescued, he deserves some gosh darn rest.
> 
> As always thank you all for the support, your comments mean a ton to me and I love reading them!
> 
> Then of course, as per usual here is my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/vulturepops) and [Tumblr](https://disastergays.tumblr.com/)


	16. Return to Safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It's alright, you won’t hurt me,” He assured, his mind brought back to when Byleth had spoken those same words to him.
> 
> _“... You are not frightened of me?”_
> 
> Dimitri’s brows pinched, as he realized what had been going through his love’s head, “Of course not.”

Traversing the forest had not grown easier. Despite knowing the reprieve the hidden grove would give, his body fought him at every step forward. Even knowing that it was only magic, he could not convince his gut to not coil in terror. 

He breathed a sigh of relief when the spell lifted as they neared the river.

Indech and Seteth stepped past him, carrying Byleth between them on outstretched wings. Dimitri had been surprised to find beneath the turtle-like shell, Indech had wings of his own. Dimitri wondered if he too could fly with them.

They eased Byleth’s largely limp form into the lake, near the base of the tree wrapped around the crystal in the center. Byleth’s head pillowed on one of many similarly green jets of crystal that sprouted throughout the lake and river.

Dimitri left Juniper Axe on the dry bank as he shucked the armor from his legs and arms off into a neat pile beside the horse. He toed off his boots and rolled up the hems of his pants to his knees, then waded into the water with the dragons. 

Byleth’s eyes were closed, and his breathing even. Dimitri was unsure if Byleth was simply asleep, or unconscious. Flayn slid down her father’s wing, and dipped into the water with barely a ripple. He stood beside her, as she examined Byleth’s body.

“Is Rhea coming?” Flayn inquired, her thumb caught between glints of pointed canines. 

Dimitri never noticed Flayn’s teeth were sharp.

_ “Yes,” _ Seteth’s voice reverberated through the air,  _ “She will be returning with some medical supplies.” _

Flayn struggled getting through the water, though she managed to situate herself beside Byleth’s front legs (hands?). She tried to pull the limbs straight, but the arms would not budge. They were likely rather heavy. Dimitri waded to her side and helped her straighten out one of the limbs, and held it in the water while Flayn examined the damage on the hand itself. 

Dimitri was no doctor, but even he could tell those fingers were horribly broken. How did they get so mangled? Did that bastard take  _ joy _ in torturing Byleth so?

Dimitri wished his death had been more drawn out, he wished he had the chance to give the monster a taste of what he had done to his Beloved. Though, he also was glad to not have had a chance to feed that side of him. Byleth was what mattered then, and what mattered now. 

“I think we’ll need to re-break them, so they can heal properly,” Flayn frowned, “They seem to have been like this for a while, the bones healed over the break.”

The thought of causing Byleth any further pain brought dread to Dimitri. After all he had been through, Dimitri almost wanted to tell her just to leave it, if they no longer pained him. But he was no fool, without forcing the joints to repair themselves, Byleth would be unable to use his hands when he did transform back.

“Dimitri,” Flayn spoke, her voice laced with apprehension, “Will you… um…”

Dimitri knew what she was asking, and in truth, Dimitri wanted no part of it. He had promised to never hurt Byleth, to never be the one to cause him pain. 

Yet in this case… Dimitri drew in a breath and let it out, “Yes, I will.”

Flayn seemed relieved, and marched through the water to stand beside Byleth’s head. She patted what she could reach of his jaw, “Byleth, wake up.”

He did not stir.

“Byleth, come  _ on, _ wake up,” She tried to push at his beak, though his head would not budge beneath her hands.

Indech walked as though the water were not around him, Dimitri couldn't tell if he simply was too big for the water to affect much, or if it had something to do with his magic. He leant down and nudged Byleth’s head with his horns, after a few gentle jabs, Byleth’s eyes fluttered open.

From one breath to the next Byleth was on his feet, curled in upon himself and snarling. His pupils narrowed to slits so thin they could barely be seen, translucent teeth bared in a vicious warning. Dimitri stumbled back as a wave washed over his chest, Indech was quick to bow his head and step away. 

Flayn threw her arms up and stumbled between Indech and Byleth’s spitting snarls, “Byleth it's ok! He’s my Uncle, it's ok!”

Byleth did not relax so easily, his eyes darted to Flayn, Indech, Seteth, then eventually settled on Dimitri. The feathers along the back of his head remained flared, even as his growling quieted. 

Dimitri regained his balance in the water, and waded to his Beloved’s side. Byleth watched his movement with narrowed eyes, it was… Honestly unsettling. Dimitri had long since gotten used to what many considered to be unnerving behavior from Byleth, yet as a towering dragon, that intense gaze sparked a primal, instinctual, terror in the back of his mind. Even though he knew Byleth would never raise a finger against him.

He swallowed it down and came to a stop beside Byleth’s flank, he reached out and rested his hand on the warm feathers of his side. After a pregnant pause, the feathers along his neck and back lowered, and Byleth seemed to relax. At least enough to no longer be poised to attack, though his guard clearly had not yet been lowered.

_ “My apologies,” _ Indech chuckled, albeit a bit nervously,  _ “I forgot I was but a stranger to you.” _

Byleth grunted, then lowered his head to Dimitri. His breath came in hot bursts, and reeked of rotten eggs. He weathered through it without complaint, as Byleth tapped him with the rounded end of his beak. Finally, he let out what Dimitri could recognize as a sigh of relief, and settled down.

“Byleth,” Flayn called, “Listen, we have to start healing you.”

Byleth snorted, and drew his head back to gaze at Flayn.

“We have to start with your talons,” She explained, “We’ll um… We’ll need to re-break them so they can heal properly.”

_ “Very well.” _

Byleth unfurled himself from the defensive position he had taken, and allowed his body to stretch out fully. His head dropped onto an exposed root from the tree, and stretched his forelegs out before him. Byleth shifted so Flayn could easily reach both hands, then turned his head enough he could watch them from one of his eyes. 

Dimitri wet his lips with his tongue, nervous as he followed after Flayn when she gestured to one arm. Dimitri lifted the hand from the water and guided it to a nearby crystal jutting from the lake, it’d keep the limb elevated, and give Dimitri better surface to… Do what he had to.

“This will hurt, Beloved,” Dimitri warned, Byleth nodded and closed his eyes in response.

Dimitri used the surface of the crystal to anchor his foot, then upon getting a good grip of Byleth’s first talon, he broke the ligament. The crack echoed through the otherwise silent forest, followed shortly by a hiss of pain from his love. 

Dimitri wasn't sure if he could do this.

Flayn rushed to his side and ran her small hands over the comparatively massive finger. Green wove its way into the scales there, Byleth’s expression did not change from the pinched one of pain. 

Guilt overcame Dimitri in waves. 

“Alright, there. That one is good,” Flayn muttered, then gingerly curled the finger away from the others in favor of selecting her next target.

Dimitri froze.

Warmth settled on his arm when Flayn placed her hand there. Could he really continue to do this? He never wished to harm Byleth, he couldn't- He had sworn to  _ protect _ him.

Dimitri did not realize Byleth’s eyes had opened until he felt the rounded end of his beak press against his chest. He swallowed and settled his hands to rest on either side of the smooth white, and brought his head down to press against the keratin, “I’m sorry, Beloved, I-”

_ “It is alright, Dimitri,” _ Byleth’s voice was gentle and reassuring.

They stood like that for some time, until Dimitri pulled back. He loathed to be the one causing Byleth’s pain, but he knew this needed to be done. He hoped, by doing it himself, it brought Byleth some form of reassurance. He was not back there, not being tortured yet again.

Dimitri broke the second finger, followed by Flayn healing it back to it’s proper alignment. The process was repeated for the rest of the hand. The joints were swollen and horribly bruised, Dimitri could not imagine how much pain Byleth was in. Yet, as the hand was finished, Byleth barely winced as he pulled that away to replace it with his left one.

There, the damage was more severe.

Even with the joints as mangled as they were, Dimitri could clearly see Byleth was missing two of his fingers. The raw stumps near the knuckle were red and swollen. They had long since scabbed over, Dimitri could see the black of grime and potential infection along the outer rim of the wounds.

Flayn rubbed sweat from her brow and pushed her hair back, without a word, she singled out the next finger to break, and Dimitri did so without question. Crack, hiss, silence. They did that until they reached what Dimitri realized to be his ring finger. 

Flayn did not speak as she lifted what was left of the finger and inspected the damage, then did the same for the sawed off joint that remained of his pinky.

“We’ll need to clean the scabs and infection away before I can heal it properly,” Flayn spoke, her voice wavered slightly (from exhaustion or emotion Dimitri was not sure) and allowed Byleth’s hand to rest back upon the crystal.

Dimitri took the silent dismissal as a chance to leave Flayn’s side and stand beside Byleth’s head. His breathing was labored, yet when Dimitri stood beside him, he managed enough energy to open his eyes and  _ smile _ at Dimitri. 

It was a small, shy thing, but it brought a surge of emotion to Dimitri’s throat. He brushed away some blood that had dried along where scales met feathers on his face, Byleth’s eye closed again and his breathing slowly evened out.

“We’ll have to wait until Rhea returns before we can do much else,” Flayn sighed, and waded from the water, to join where Seteth and Indech had settled on the shore of the lake.

Dimitri hefted himself beside Byleth’s head on the root, and remained there. He couldn't bear to be from Byleth’s side now. He wondered if he’d ever be able to, after this.

The morning sun flickered through the leaves by the time Rhea had arrived. She rode upon a white horse Dimitri did not recognize, beside her Dedue rode his own dappled mare. Both steeds carried large loads upon their backs. 

_ “You're back,” _ Seteth spoke,  _ “Have you brought medicine?” _

Rhea snorted, “Of course I have, and clothes.”

She slid off her horse with a practiced grace, and unwound one of many bags from her steed’s saddle. The woman tossed the bag across the river, Seteth caught it between his teeth. Flayn helped her father untangle the drawstring from his massive canines, then began pulling out clothes for what Dimitri imagined to be for Indech and Seteth both.

Dimitri rested an open palm on Byleth’s cheek when he stirred from his light slumber. He did not pull away, though did incline his head to allow for his eyes to follow Rhea’s and Dedue’s movements as they unpacked the luggage from their mounts. He seemed unbothered, as far as Dimitri could tell.

“Your majesty, I brought you some clothes as well, and food.”

Dimitri hesitated to move from Byleth’s side, but the dragon gave him little choice. With little more warning than a rumble, Byleth butted him off the root, and into the water with a splash. Dimitri coughed as he resurfaced, and stood from the relatively shallow depths of the lake. 

“Really?” He groused, and tried, in vain, to push his dripping hair from his eye. 

Byleth rumbled a deep laugh, and Dimitri sighed. Now he  _ had _ to get different clothes. He shot a half-hearted scowl at his love, then waded to the shore, where Dedue met him with a chuckle and towel to dry off with.

Dimitri scrubbed at his knotted hair, then ditched the cloth to just unlatch the remainder of his white armor. He’d need to clean it soon, blood was never easy to remove from white. By the time he had changed into drier clothes, Seteth and Indech had reverted to their own human forms and did much of the same. Rhea fussed with Seteth’s poorly tied belt, though he batted her hands away before she could fix it.

“How are injuries?” Dimitri inquired, while he rolled the hem of his dry pants up to his knees. He did not plan to stay from the water long.

Dedue offered him a bowl with cloth tied over the top to keep it’s contents warm and from spilling, “Minimal, thankfully. Some broken bones, a couple serious wounds, but nothing fatal.”

Dimitri took it with a quiet ‘thanks’, and untied the cloth from the top. It was some sort of stew, he recognized the smell as something Dedue had made for him before, his mouth watered. 

He brought a chunk of meat up to his mouth, but paused and lowered it. 

“Byleth, have you eaten recently?”

The dragon opened his eyes at being called, then shook his head.

“Come here, you need this more than I.”

Byleth lifted his head, and stretched out to hover before Dimitri’s crossed legs. Dimitri chuckled at the way his beloved’s pupils dilated, and would have given him the entire serving if not for Rhea speaking up.

“Do  _ not _ feed him that.”

Dimitri held a retort on his tongue, regarding why the hell he  _ shouldn't _ feed his starving fiancé, but bit it back as she brought a pile of raw fish upon a woven basket lid over. 

“You only ate raw meat when captive, correct?” Rhea spoke, and set the fish beside Byleth’s jaw.

_ “Yes.” _

“The last thing we need is for you to get an upset stomach from ingesting cooked food,” She explained, “You will eat it again, do not give me that look, but let us keep your diet simple for now as you heal.”

Byleth let out a heavy sigh, hot air whistled from his nostrils, but the dragon pulled from Dimitri to nudge at the fish Rhea had left for him. The slimy creatures looked positively vile to Dimitri, he couldn't blame his love’s apprehension for eating them. Even so, Byleth grabbed one particularly fat sample, and pulled it into the lake for him to eat.

Dimitri watched in morbid fascination as Byleth swallowed the fish whole.

His attention left Byleth when Dedue sat beside him, his own meal upon his lap. 

“What were people told about Byleth?”

“He is safe, but is recovering in isolation,” He stated, then brought the stew to his mouth and began to eat.

Dimitri prayed none would come looking for the Archbishop. He could only hope people took them at their word, and waited until Byleth returned to seek him out.

Though really, he hoped people would leave Byleth alone until he recovered fully. Dimitri knew it was impossible, as he knew he still had duties himself as a King, even now. Such was the life of those in positions of power.

Dimitri poked at the cooked meat, and swirled the food in the thick liquid around it. The vegetables were soft and crumbled under his fork. After poking and prodding at his meal, he relented and shoved it into his mouth. It tasted like wet sand, as all things did. 

Still, he had not truly realized how starved his body was for food. He had not eaten since Dedue brought him food yesterday.

Byleth ate two more fish before seemingly becoming full. 

It worried Dimitri, how little he ate. The man ate more than any he had ever seen, was this some sort of result from starving him? It did not seem to bother Rhea, as she wrapped up the remaining fish and brought them back to her horse. Dimitri tried to take solace in that, though found it hard to shake the concern even so.

He remained where he was, perched on a flat rock jutting out above the bank, while Rhea and Flayn returned to the water. Rhea scrubbed at Byleth’s missing fingers, until the water around them took a sickening shade of red. Dimitri couldn't finish the rest of his meal, and set it aside as he watched.

Flayn’s magic folded itself into Byleth’s exposed flesh. Stopping the blood, and allowing it to scab over again, though this time, in a healthier way. Rhea wrapped the stumps in gauze, and guided Byleth to rest his hand above the water on the crystal they had used to break his fingers.

Dimitri scrubbed a hand down his face, his body ached. 

Now finally able to rest, all the cuts and bruises he suffered caught up to him. He wouldn't dare ask for any healing, not when Byleth was in such a state. Their magic was far better left to tend to him, Dimitri hurt, but he was not going to die.

But he was so, so tired. 

Yet, he forced himself to remain awake for Byleth’s sake. Until Byleth could rest, Dimitri would not allow himself to slumber. Even so, his eyelids were heavy, and each blink was harder than the last to force his eyes open again.

He jolted when heat washed over him again. Byleth had extended his head to hover before him once more, the draconic eyes nearly unreadable in expression. What Dimitri could pick out, from the slitted pupils and swirls of green and gold, was concern. 

Dimitri was quick to wave it off, “Do not fret over me, Byleth. I am fine.”

_ “You need sleep.” _

He chuckled, “So do you.”

Byleth snorted, Dimitri could feel the hot air disturb the hair hanging before his eye,  _ “Get some rest, Dimitri.” _

“I will when you do.”

His eyes narrowed, Dimitri held his gaze with his own until Byleth huffed and pulled back enough for Dimitri to breathe again.

_ “At least lay down, then.” _

Dimitri accepted the compromise, and after grabbing the bedroll Dedue had brought for him, rolled it out on the same flat rock he had been on. He allowed himself to recline against the stiff cotton and down. Dedue grabbed the leftovers, and left Dimitri’s line of sight, likely to return to his mare.

Words mixed and blurred together as he laid there. Rhea and Flayn spoke, occasionally joined by Dedue or Seteth. 

The world spiraled to darkness.

* * *

Dimitri jolted awake.

He scrambled to his feet, panic laced his veins. Where was Byleth? Was he alright? Did they rescue him?

His fear ebbed away when he felt Byleth press his beak against his shoulder blade. He drew in a breath and let it out, then turned to face the dragon. It was late afternoon, as far as Dimitri could tell. He murmured an apology for falling asleep, to which Byleth scoffed at.

_ “You needed the rest.” _

Dimitri frowned, but did not argue it. They were alone, he noticed, belatedly. 

“Where did everyone go?”

_ “Garreg Mach,” _ Byleth explained,  _ “They needed to recover as well.” _

“So they left you,  _ again. _ ”

Byleth snorted,  _ “I am not helpless.” _

Dimitri struggled to find a way to express his anger without insulting Byleth’s capabilities, so he settled on, “You're injured.”

_ “I am, but you are here as well,” _ Byleth hummed,  _ “I am not alone.” _

“I was asleep, Byleth.”

_ “And?” _

“What if… What if I didn't wake up if you were attacked, what if-”

Byleth pulled away,  _ “You are awake now. Do not let ‘what ifs’ haunt you.” _

Dimitri pulled a hand down his face, the action irritated the gash he had received from Blaiddyd’s lance upon the battlefield. He hissed and pulled his hand away. The skin around the slice was red and puckered, irritated no doubt. Still, as far as Dimitri could tell it didn't seem infected, so he was content to just ignore it until the wound fixed itself.

That, however, did not seem to be acceptable for Byleth.

_ “You're injured.” _

“It's just a cut, I’m fine.”

Byleth scoffed, and tilted his head to get a better look at his open palm,  _ “It is deep.” _

He shrugged, “I’ve suffered far worse.”

_ “Dimitri,” _ Byleth’s tone lowered to a growl, and he sighed. 

“I am fine, if it becomes infected, I will get it looked at.”

Byleth pulled away from his side, and left a cold patch beside him. Though it was soon replaced by his head again, as he shifted forward, and brought a massive clawed hand up. The talons shone pearlescent in the dappled light from the trees, as if each hooked weapon were a precious gem.

“Let me,” Byleth urged, and Dimitri could never say no to him.

He rested it on the scaled pads of Byleth’s hand, and watched while he raised his other. Byleth’s hand shook when he slowly lowered the point of a talon to touch the wound. Goosebumps rose from his skin as magic flowed freely from Byleth to Dimitri’s open palm. The wound faded into nothing but a scar.

Byleth released his hand, great lengths taken to avoid contact with talons, even going so far as to tuck them beneath his body. Dimitri ran his thumb over the pale scar, “Thank you, Byleth.”

Byleth nodded, and rose his head to the sky. Dimitri marveled in the way his feathers and scales shone in the afternoon sun. 

“Byleth,” He spoke, and sat on the ledge of the rock he had slept upon, “Can I see your hand?”

Byleth’s gaze jerked down to him, his nostrils flared,  _ “Why?” _

“Why not?”

After a heavy pause, Byleth grumbled, but brought his right hand up to rest beside Dimitri on the rock. It hadn't been the one Dimitri wanted to examine, but he found no room to complain as he brought the talons close enough to rest the pads of some of his fingers upon his lap. Byleth had fallen eerily still.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” He asked, quiet, as his hand traced over the familiar scars Dimitri would have seen on his hands as a human.

_ “Be careful of the claws,” _ Byleth spoke, instead of answering him directly,  _ “They are very sharp.” _

Dimitri brought a hand to rest on the rounded curve of a talon, Byleth’s feather’s rose a bit, then lowered. 

“It's alright, you won’t hurt me,” He assured, his mind brought back to when Byleth had spoken those same words to him.

_ “... You are not frightened of me?” _

Dimitri’s brows pinched, as he realized what had been going through his love’s head, “Of course not.”

Byleth’s eyes shifted out over the water, instead of meeting his own. Dimitri rubbed the knuckles he could reach on his lap, “Byleth, talk to me.”

_ “If… If I can no longer return to a human form again…” _ Byleth trailed off, and Dimitri rested his hands on Byleth’s index finger.

“Byleth, I love you, and will continue to, no matter the form you take.”

_ “Will you?” _ Byleth’s voice was drained, empty of emotion,  _ “I would need to live in the village, we may not see each other.” _

Dimitri’s grip on his finger tightened, “Byleth, so long as you trust your heart to me, I will cherish it. No matter how far apart we may be.”

Byleth did not speak further, and instead lowered his head to press against Dimitri’s forehead. Dimitri brought a hand up to rest on the keratin of his beak. 

He would always love Byleth, no matter the form he took.

* * *

According to Rhea, the roots of Byleth’s horns remained intact, and would be able to regrow over time. Dimitri was relieved, he prayed he could one day be graced with the beauty of Byleth’s true form in all its strength.

“What did you do with them?” Dimitri inquired, Seteth sighed.

“Nothing, yet,” He admitted, “We simply focused on gathering them before they could fall into the hands of someone else foolish enough to wield them.”

Dimitri nodded, he wondered if the spear Blaiddyd had brandished was one of the relics they had crafted from Byleth. He scratched at the scar on his palm, “They should be destroyed.”

“I am inclined to agree, though, we figure consulting Byleth first would be more respectful.”

Dimitri glanced over his shoulder, Byleth had fallen into a deep slumber again. Though he did wake up occasionally to eat.

“I do not know when he will wake up again,” Dimitri spoke, and turned his attention back to Seteth, perched across from the fire.

“I plan on staying until he does awaken, Rhea will be handling the politics at Garreg Mach for now.”

Dimitri was pensive, leaving the woman in charge again. He feared she would undue all that Byleth had worked so hard for. It would be temporary, he reminded himself. Byleth would take his place as Archbishop once more, when he was healed.

“He’ll make a full recovery,” Seteth assured, and used a stick to poke at the flames and topple the logs. They collapsed upon another in a ploom of smoke and embers.

Dimitri was relieved to hear it, yet worried all the same. Byleth was in pain, despite trying to hide it. He could only hope the pain would ease soon.

“I understand your concern,” Seteth spoke, his voice unusually soft, “But you do not need to worry for him, Dimitri.”

“Perhaps,” Dimitri rested his elbows on his knees, “But I will continue to do so.”

Seteth chuckled, “You remind me of myself, when I was a far younger man.”

“How so?”

“I fretted over my late wife, as you do Byleth.”

“...Ah,” Dimitri stared into the flames, it was easy to forget sometimes, that he was not the only one haunted by the dead.

He glanced up to meet Seteth’s stare, “She was Flayn’s mother, right?”

“Yes, though Flayn’s memories of her are rather limited, she died when Flayn was young,” Seteth rested his cheek on an open palm, “She had been killed when Nemesis raided our former city.”

Dimitri couldn't imagine the agony he must have felt, losing his love and the mother of his child. The more he knew the man, the more he understood why he had always been overbearing in his protectiveness of his daughter. Dimitri didn't doubt he would have been the same.

“... What was she like?” Dimitri asked.

Seteth chuckled, “I had no words to describe her then, I doubt I could hope to now. She was… Incredible. A beast of the sea, she could spur waves with her wings that could topple villages in one fell swoop. Yet she was always so gentle to everyone around her. Flayn takes after her a lot.”

Dimitri glanced over his shoulder once more to Byleth, still asleep, still alive. He laced his fingers together on his lap, then returned his gaze to the fire. He couldn't help the need to check on him so frequently. As if Dimitri kept his eyes away too long, Byleth could be taken from him again.

Seteth did not comment on it, for that Dimitri was grateful.

* * *

_ “I do not care,” _ Byleth stated, and turned away from Seteth.

Seteth stifled a long-suffering sigh, “Very well. They will be destroyed, then.”

Byleth glanced down at him from the corner of his eye, it was evident the potential fate of the relics was not approved by him.

_ “Give them to my lions,” _ He spoke up,  _ “They shall decide what to do with them.” _

Dimitri coughed into his morning tea, “I highly doubt any of them will want anything to do with those things.”

Byleth hummed, considering the thought,  _ “Why not?” _

“They are parts of you, stolen from you in heignous torture,” Dimitri sputtered, “How could  _ any _ of us want something that came from such a terrible act?”

_ “Hm, _ ” Byleth was silent for a moment, then regarded Seteth,  _ “Very well, destroy them. Ah- Except the Shield and the Lance.” _

“You know what they crafted from you?” Seteth seemed surprised, Dimitri was not. The bastard probably paraded the weapons before Byleth, still, he wondered why Byleth wanted those two to remain. 

Regardless, he seemed more at ease with the decision now, and returned his head to the bedroll Dimitri had folded into a pillow for his Beloved. He dwarfed the simple attempt, his head far too large to rest comfortably upon the cloth, yet, Byleth seemed to enjoy it even so. Dimitri was not one to question such a thing.

He bared his teeth in a yawn, then settled down into the water again. Dimitri watched in silence as Byleth eased into a slumber once more. Was sleeping so much normal? Ever since he had returned, Byleth had been asleep far more than he had been awake. Seteth did not seem alarmed, abilet obviously exasperated, so Dimitri figured it was not something to concern himself too much over. 

Byleth had slept for five years when he had fallen down that cliffside. He supposed it was just a part of how Nabateans heal.

Still. 

He looked forward to when he could lounge with Byleth again, and not be interrupted by the dragon falling in and out of sleep.

Dimitri absently brushed his hand through the soft downy feathers near Byleth’s eye. The dragon grunted, but did not stirr.

“Indech will likely arrive sometime this evening,” Seteth spoke, and mounted his wyvern, “Until then, see to it he eats regularly.”

“Of course.”

Seteth took off, and Dimitri was alone with him once more. Since Byleth was asleep, he took the chance to get some paperwork done. On a visit Ingrid had, before she returned to Fhirdiad, she brought some papers to be looked over between doting on his Beloved. 

It was menial stuff mostly, taxes, budgeting, current state of food and crops. Work he generally did not mind addressing. He wrote in silence, listening to the quiet snores of his Beloved as he slept.

Byleth awoke faster than he had anticipated, what couldn't have been more than an hour later, as the heat beside his leg disappeared when he lifted his head

“You're awake,” Dimitri smiled, “how do you feel?”

Byleth huffed, and after his head craned around to take in their surroundings, fell back down beside Dimitri,  _ “Sore.” _

“Hm, I imagine. Are you hungry?”

_ “Not really.” _

Dimitri nodded, and turned his attention back to the letter he was writing regarding the budget for the year, “Alright, try to eat something before you sleep again, though.”

Byleth gave a noncommittal grunt, and Dimitri set his quill aside. It had been four days since Byleth had been brought to the spring, and as far as Dimitri could tell, he was recovering well enough. Though the worry still remained.

He used a free hand to stroke over the smooth curve of his beak, Byleth leaned into the touch. Dimitri longed to embrace Byleth again, to hold the man in his arms once more. He could wait, though. 

_ This, _ being beside him, knowing he was alive and well, was plenty for Dimitri.

* * *

Indech arrived when the sun set and the sky was blanketed in darkness. Dimitri managed to get a couple letters written up, he’d send them out with whoever visited them next. 

Byleth ate two fish, and fell asleep once more. Dimitri remained by his head, he emitted more than enough heat to keep him warm, even without a fire.

The silence he and Indech shared was calm, if not a bit charged. The Nabatean cooked some rabbit by the lakeside, Dimitri was surprised he had retained a human form, even at the lake. Though to be fair, for all he knew changing between the two cost a great deal of magic. 

Still… Dimitri had other questions.

“Remember when you spoke to me before we went to battle?”

Indech hummed his acknowledgement, and raised his head from the fire, “I do.”

“What did that saying mean?”

“Enansal Eth Din’ann?”

“Yes.”

“It… Hm. It is a bit hard to translate to your tongue. Roughly, it could be translated to ‘ _ Blessing in Death’. _ Though it is more of a prayer said to a brother in arms, it's meant to protect the soul of those you’ll fight alongside. Should you fall, may you find peace in death, but it also is an acknowledgement of the sacrifices the other side will make as well.”

Bitterness seeped Dimitri’s tongue, “Those monsters don't deserve any thought.”

Indech chuckled, Dimitri found the sound to be borderline condescending.

“They were wretched things, yes. Yet in death we are all the same,” Indech tilted his head, “Perhaps it may be hard to understand. Our people live quite some time, so for us, death is sacred. It should be honored and respected, as it will come for us all one day. No matter who meets their end, the death itself should be honored.”

Dimitri rested his cheek on Byleth’s warm skin, “... I can not say I understand.”

Death was a punishment,  _ not _ a reward.

“Understandable,” Indech hummed, “It is not something so easily explained past that.”

They settled into another bout of silence. It was simple, not comfortable, per se, but easy. Byleth shifted in his sleep, and puffed out a heavy breath of hot air. 

Dimitri wrinkled his nose at the smell.

He leant against Byleth’s jaw and pillowed the back of his head with the warm down. 

“Get some sleep, I will not leave until you awake.”

Dimitri grunted his thanks, and allowed his body to relax fully. Byleth’s gentle snores lulled Dimitri to a peaceful sleep.

* * *

A laugh roused Dimitri from his slumber.

_ “If you wake him, I will be very cross, Claude.” _

Warmth enveloped his lap, he could feel the small bumps of scales pressed into his legs. 

“I’m a busy man, Teach. I gotta go,” Claude sounded exasperated, Dimitri wondered why.

“That is a  _ you _ problem,” Another voice chimed in, Linhardt if he was not mistaken.

“It’d be rude to leave without saying goodbye to his Kingliness,” Claude justified. 

Dimitri found the thought rather kind, and decided it was time for him to wake up anyway. Who knew how long he had slept.

“I am awake, Claude,” He informed, and rubbed the crust of sleep from his eye, “I take you must return to Almyra?”

“Mornin’ Sunshine,” Claude chuckled, “You are correct. We have some trouble on our northern border, I have to go and see if I can't get everyone to calm down.”

“Understandable,” Dimitri rested his hand over the part of Byleth’s covering his lower body, “I pray you will find a peaceful solution, my friend.”

Claude’s facade dropped and he brushed at some dirt clinging to his sleeve, “As do I. Doubtful, but I must try even so.”

Dimitri hoped Claude could find the peace he searched for. War was something to be avoided, not reveled in. Still, in their world there were people who stood by certain beliefs, no matter how wrong or hurtful they could be to others. He knew that well, even within Faerghus. 

People’s minds were not so easily changed from their hatred toward those of Ducur.

Claude bid them adieu, and mounted his wyvern. As he flew from their sight, Dimitri wished him well.

The silence that settled back over the lake was comfortable. Dimitri took the chance to take in his surroundings proper, Lindhart had set up some sort of table on the shore of the lake. Dozens of bobbles and dodads littered the wood, various vials bubbled with some unknown concoctions. Books were left open on pages with corners folded in.

He seemed to be studying something.

Byleth huffed behind him, and the hand that had covered his lower half curled inward, a loose imitation of an embrace. Byleth held him to his jaw as a child did a beloved toy. Dimitri ran his palm over the scutes along his joints, Byleth appeared to relax at the motion.

“Will these shed naturally?”

Dimitri inclined his head to get a better look at Linhardt, a part of what Dimitri assumed to be Byleth's feather held above his head. The thin wisps of the feather’s vane shimmered under the sun’s dappled light.

_ “Probably,” _ Byleth rumbled,  _ “Though I have not enough experience with this form to know for certain.” _

“Fascinating,” Linhardt turned his attention back to the table, “They don't burn, and none of the acids I’ve tried on the clippings seem to have been affected. If we can keep the feathers you  _ do _ shed, this may be revolutionary in crafting better armor.”

_ “Then they are yours,” _ Byleth spoke. 

Though Dimitri was quick to rectify such a statement with a curt, “ _ Only _ ones that fall off naturally.”

Byleth snorted, though did not refute his suspicion. The man really needed to stop giving away more than he truly had to lose. 

Linhardt furrowed his brows, likely confused, though did not comment further as he continued to put cuttings of the feather he had gained from Byleth through various tests. Each time, it appeared the feather was not damaged. Dimitri did wonder how such a feat was possible. Were the feathers simply too tough to be destroyed by normal human means? 

Byleth was missing feathers in a couple locations, namely the flight feathers of his wings. Were they taken to be used as armor? Or were they simply a byproduct of being chained and malnourished? Dimitri’s hand tightened over Byleth’s knuckle. 

No matter the case, Dimitri would never allow it to happen again.

* * *

He was cold. 

It was the dawn of  _ what, _ the eighth day since Byleth had been rescued? The man still had no signs of being able to return to a human form. Not that in truth, Dimitri knew what to be looking for. 

The brisk morning air cut through the thin cotton fabric he wore. He rolled onto his side, eager to bask in his Beloved’s warmth once more. Though, as he did, he found the stone beside him cold, and empty.

That jolted Dimitri awake.

His eyes shot open and he sat up, no sign of Byleth. Anywhere.

Panic coursed through his veins as he stumbled to his feet. He fell to the ground with a cry when his ankle rolled from his stumbling like a newborn fawn. The pain was shoved from his mind, and he forced himself to stand.

There had to be prints. Some sign of where Byleth had gone, yet no trees were disturbed, the ground untouched. Everything was the same.

Except, for a body in the lake.

Pale skin with a halo of green around the head… Byleth.

Byleth was human again.

Dimitri ran into the water, nary a care for his clothes. Byleth was simply floating in the water, his expression calm, serene, almost. New, fresh, scars littered his nude form. Angry red lines along his neck, waist, and wrists. 

Yet, he was there, just sleeping.

Dimitri scooped down and gathered his Beloved in his arms, Byleth’s head fell against Dimitri’s chest. He seemed so small, so  _ fragile _ now. A thin wafer of a man when Dimitri held him, his ribs were uncomfortably visible from beneath his skin, tendons and bone alike pressed flush against skin and muscle. What fat Byleth had before was gone.

He waded from the water, and all but collapsed on the shore, he cradled Byleth in his lap, and pushed wet the hair from his closed eyes with a hand. Byleth’s eyelashes fluttered, then his nose scrunched up, before finally, Byleth’s eyes opened. 

He blinked, “... Dima?”

Dimitri smiled at him and pulled Byleth close, he rested his forehead on Byleth’s collarbone. Each breath Byleth took tickled Dimitri’s hair.

“I am back,” Byleth spoke, his flat tone spurred laughter from Dimitri’s gut. 

He laughed, and pulled back to press kisses all over Byleth’s face. The man snorted, though remained largely still through the assault. 

“You have been, my Beloved.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HO BOY, its been a hot minute y'all. Thanks for sticking with me through the little mini-hiatus! Things will be back to normal now, though I've changed the day I plan on updating to wednesdays instead of mondays, just works better with me little schedule.
> 
> That said, oh crap I am so so behind on replies! I'll get to everyone soon I promise, I really do appreciate each and every comment I get, they make me so delighted to read!!
> 
> That said, hope you all have enjoyed the chapter!


	17. Some Time to Heal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “- You cannot remain here indefinitely. Your people need you, and if this ‘union’ will require your absence from the cap-”
> 
> “Quiet yourself,” Dimitri snapped. His tone was a bit more harsh than he had intended, but the sheer gall of this man to dare imply… It angered Dimitri in a way he had not been in quite some time.

“Humor me, please.”

“Dima, this is excessive,” Byleth grunted, and pushed the fur of Dimitri’s cloak from his mouth. 

“It is chilly,” Dimitri pointed out, “I want to be sure you do not catch a cold.”

Byleth sighed, but allowed Dimitri to pull the cloak further around his shoulders. He had given the man a spare change of clothes Dedue had brought for him. The heavy cotton tunic dwarfed Byleth’s smaller frame, so he found it fit to add his cloak as an extra layer of warmth and protection.

He was unsure if he should wait until Seteth, or perhaps Indech returned, or if he should simply bring Byleth back to the monastery now. Dimitri knew nothing when it came to how their magic worked, and that worried him.

Once Dimitri felt Byleth was bundled proper, the man pulled from his hands and stood on wobbly legs. Dimitri rose with him, and rested his open palms on the bumpy expanse of his ribcage, when his love steadied himself, Dimitri pulled back so only their hands touched. 

“We should wait until one of the others come back,” Dimitri suggested, “I do not wish to put you in a potentially disastrous situation.”

Byleth scoffed and interlaced his fingers with Dimitri’s. His hands were warm.

“I would rather not stay here any longer than I must,” Byleth grunted, Dimitri could understand the desire to leave.

Still.

“I am sure Seteth will be by sooner than later,” Dimitri assured, and brought Byleth close with an arm over his shoulders. 

He guided him further up the shore to the rock he had set up a makeshift camp upon. His ankle was tender from rolling it, but the pain was little, and was brushed off as he lowered Byleth onto the bedroll Dimitri had been using.

Byleth allowed it, though not without a huff to show his irritation. Was he coddling the man? Probably, but after everything that had transpired, Dimitri couldn't help it. He worried for Byleth and would much rather be overly cautious than foolhardy.

Dimitri stood once Byleth was settled and strode to Juniper Axe to retrieve some leftover food. It was simple stuff, some bread and jerky, but it was food all the same. He returned to Byleth’s side and eased down to sit next to him. He offered the food, Byleth accepted it with a nod. 

“You are favoring your right leg,” Byleth spoke, and tore into the bread as a man in the desert tore into water.

“Ah, yes, well…” He chuckled, “I might have sprained it a bit, when I awoke and didn't see you.”

The bread was gone in a matter of mere moments, Byleth wiped some crumbs from the corner of his mouth and held out his hand. Dimitri intertwined their fingers, an action that spurred a sweet laugh from Byleth.

“Your ankle,” Byleth clarified, “I can heal it.”

“Oh,” Dimitri still did not let go of his hand, “Do not concern yourself, it is minor. Barely hurts.”

“But it still hurts.”

“Sure, but it’ll pass.”

The corners of Byleth’s mouth twisted down, and his eyes narrowed, “ _ Dimitri. _ ”

“Conserve your energy, Byleth. You need it far more than I.”

Byleth snorted, and in a flash, had Dimitri’s swollen ankle in a vice-like grip. Dimitri jolted at the surge of pain that hit the back of his skull, and hissed out a sharp breath.

“Thought so,” Byleth grunted. 

His grip relented, until his hand merely rested over the joint. Cool relief met his pain as Byleth healed him. When the hand left him, the pain was gone.

“Thank you,” Dimitri sighed, he would have rather the man save his magic than waste it on him. Especially over such a minor thing. 

He still appreciated the kindness though.

Byleth nodded, and Dimitri brought his Beloved close with an arm around his shoulders. He was alive, he was  _ safe. _ Dimitri had to keep reminding himself that Byleth was fine and by his side. Nothing would ever hurt him again, that much, Dimitri would make  _ damn _ sure of.

Byleth’s hand rested over the one Dimitri had on his shoulder, their fingers interlocked, and Dimitri let out a heavy breath. 

“I am fine, Dimitri.”

“I know.”

Dimitri felt Byleth nod against his shoulder. After a moment, he rested his cheek upon the pale hair, and breathed in the scent of pine, smoke, and home. 

Seteth arrived not long after. Dimitri reluctantly relinquished him to Seteth’s care, and the dragon did a quick look-over. Byleth was clearly displeased by Seteth’s prodding, but when Seteth pulled back to assure him Byleth was safe to return to the Monastery, the man’s shoulders relaxed just enough to be noticable.

It made sense Byleth would be worried too.

They packed up the makeshift camp, and made way to Garreg Mach. 

* * *

The absolute chaos that descended upon them as soon as he crossed the bridge with Juniper Axe and Byleth, was as expected as it was awful.

Even people Dimitri did not recognize flooded around him and Byleth, all jabbering away their concerns. Byleth’s skin was a sickly pale, and Dimitri worried if the poor man got any more overwhelmed he’d faint.

“Enough, please step aside,” He raised his voice to a shout, and gathered the attention of those so carelessly clamoring over each other. Given he was not in his more formal attire, it seemed people did not realize they were flooding around the  _ King _ as well. 

People were quick to disperse from the crowd. Though some familiar faces remained, Flayn was already on the other side of Juniper Axe, bouncing beside the steed’s flank. The joy radiating from her was contagious.

“You have returned, wonderful! I was getting worried, you know,” She spoke, then rested her hand on Byleth’s leg, “Come, we must get you back to bed.”

Dimitri slid from Juniper Axe, and walked alongside his horse to the stable, Byleth remained on the saddle. Dedue took over caring for Juniper Axe while Dimitri helped Byleth dismount. His legs shook as he stood, still weak from lack of use. 

Byleth held up a hand before Dimitri could pick him up, “Don’t—I will not get better unless I build my muscle back up.”

Dimitri felt it was far too early to be worrying about that now, but relented, and instead offered his arm for Byleth to use as a crutch while they walked. It pained Dimitri to see Byleth struggle with such a seemingly simple task, he wanted nothing more than to just gather the man in his arms and whisk him back to his room. 

He refrained, and instead matched Byleth’s slow pace as they walked from the stables to the reception hall. It was packed with people, and Byleth’s grip on his arm tightened. Dimitri could feel the pointed ends of his nails dig into his skin through the light cotton shirt he wore.

He was quick to lead them both out, and instead took the long way around to get to the stairs. It was more walking, but the way Byleth froze when he saw other people… Dimitri figured he’d rather do this.

“Thank you,” Byleth spoke, as they passed the graveyard.

Dimitri hummed, “Of course.”

Scaling the stairs had to be difficult for the man, Dimitri was patient and waited as Byleth took each step with trembling legs. It seemed exhausting, yet, Byleth’s expression was so carefully neutral, Dimitri couldn't really tell what was going through his mind. 

When they made it to the third floor, Byleth was all but using Dimitri as a life support. Dimitri used his free hand to help steady Byleth as they finally entered their room. He eased Byleth down onto the bed, and took it upon himself to help undress him. The clothes were barely staying on to begin with, as such were likely not too comfortable, he figured.

Byleth was eerily silent as Dimitri unburied him from the fur of his cape, he frowned, “Byleth, are you alright?”

The man’s lips twitched downward, though gave no other response. 

Dimitri wasn't sure how to act in such a situation. He finished removing the cloak and his shirt, Byleth was compliant, though unresponsive. It worried Dimitri.

He knelt at Byleth’s feet, eased the horribly loose pants from knobby legs, and added it to the pile of clothes Dimitri would deal with later. He stood, and retrieved some lighter cotton clothes that would be far more comfortable to sleep in.

Dimitri set the clothes beside Byleth. When Byleth didn't react, Dimitri knelt down to meet his eye, sought out his hand, and intertwined their fingers.

“Byleth, talk to me.”

“This is ridiculous,” Byleth responded, his tone laced with frustration. 

Dimitri frowned, “What is?”

“This,  _ everything, _ ” Byleth’s brows furrowed, “It's embarrassing.”

“I don't understand, Byleth.”

“That I am this weak, I can't walk without help. I was imprisoned for what, a month?”

“You were gone for nearly _ three.” _

“Still,” Byleth’s nose scrunched up, “Rhea was imprisoned for  _ years, _ and when she was freed she could walk just fine.”

“You can not compare your experiences with hers.”

“If I do not, others will,” Byleth snorted.

“She still had to leave to recover, Byleth. She was not tortured as you were. Even at her worst, Edelgard still fed and provided for Rhea’s basic needs. Certainly did not create  _ relics _ from her.”

Byleth’s brows furrowed, Dimitri ran his thumb over Byleth’s knuckles until he saw the tension ease from his shoulders. When it did, Dimitri brought the back of Byleth’s hand to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss on the tendons there.

“You are  _ not _ weak Byleth. To have survived what you have is incredible. Do not feel ashamed for needing time to heal,  _ anyone _ would need to after that.”

Byleth nodded, and Dimitri helped Byleth into the simple shift and cotton pants. When dressed again, Dimitri helped Byleth lay down and tucked the covers around him. He brushed hair from his eyes, it had grown since Dimitri had seen him last, and swooped down to steal a chaste kiss from his lips.

“Get some sleep.”

“Are you leaving?” Byleth inquired.

“For a little, I need to catch up on paperwork, bathe, and check in on everyone.”

Byleth nodded, Dimitri ran his thumb along his cheekbone.

“I’ll do the paperwork here, alright?”

That seemed to ease Byleth’s mind as when he nodded once more, it appeared more relaxed. The man yawned, and Dimitri kissed his sweaty forehead before leaving the room and closing the door behind him. He hoped Byleth could get some proper sleep, now that he was in an actual bed.

He’d get the paperwork last, on his way back to Byleth’s side. First, he planned on cleaning up.

* * *

Many people had returned to their respective homes, duties called them back to their people. Dimitri could understand, though was still surprised at how many did remain. 

Dedue gave him an overview of current injuries and damages over a light lunch. 

Annette and Mercedes both suffered from minor burns, Felix had sprained his wrist, Sylvain took an arrow to the gut, Raphael broke some fingers, Hilda suffered from minor head trauma… The list went on. They all had been recovering with little trouble though, so for that Dimitri was thankful. 

Most surprisingly was news of Jeritza, the man decided to remain at the monastery. He followed his sister like a shadow usually, though had been seen helping move crates of weapons from location to location. Honestly, Dimitri would have thought he’d disappear again, when healed. He wondered why Jeritza stayed.

Did he feel indebted to Byleth? It did not matter now, he supposed. So long as he bore no ill will toward any of his people, the man could do whatever he pleased. 

A handful of advisors and diplomats made the journey from Fhirdiad to Garreg Mach to meet and discuss current matters with him. They met in the old war room with piles of letters and documents. Dimitri had them sorted by importance, Dedue sat on his right side, and retrieved any information regarding Duscur. 

Dimitri was frankly more comfortable letting his friend take the lead on the reconstruction of Duscur, the people there seemed more responsive when speaking to one of their own. He couldn't blame them.

One of the four advisors that had traveled out was an older man, Dimitri did not know him particularly well. He came to his position after his father died, when Grand Duke Rufus had been acting monarch. He trusted his Uncle’s judgement, and had decided to keep him in the court.

Though the man tested Dimitri’s patience each time he opened his mouth.

“Your Majesty, if I may,” Ivan started, and Dimitri had half a mind to cut him off there. 

He did not, as much as the man tended to irritate him, he did often bring forth good financial goals. Even if his opinion of Duscur bittered Dimitri’s tongue whenever he spoke.

“Go on.”

“While the political union of you and the Archbishop is a grand idea, there are other matters that must be discussed. I am sure you will have no trouble finding a mistress-”

Dimitri stopped listening,  _ surely _ he had misheard. Though the strangled sound from Dedue beside him led Dimitri to believe what his ears were telling him. He shot a glance at his friend, who while by no means stoic, kept his emotions close to his chest more often than not. 

To see him with such a blatant look of shock solidified that yes, the man had indeed said what Dimitri thought.

“- You cannot remain here indefinitely. Your people need you, and if this ‘union’ will require your absence from the cap-”

“Quiet yourself,” Dimitri snapped. His tone was a bit more harsh than he had intended, but the sheer gall of this man to dare imply… It angered Dimitri in a way he had not been in quite some time.

Ivan’s mouth snapped shut, though he seemed thoroughly confused by Dimitri’s bite. The other advisors, some Dimitri had known since he was a child, seemed to be a mixture of shock and confusion themselves. 

Did they  _ all _ believe his marriage to Byleth was purely for political gain?

“My ‘Union’ with Archbishop Byleth has  _ no _ foundation in political gain, I am marrying the man because I love him.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Ivan dismissed, “Though my words still stand, you can not be from the people for so long. And furthermore, there is the topic of heirs. As  _ His Grace _ is, well, a man, you will need to find a Mistress to carry-”

“No.”

“N-no?”

“You heard me,” Dimitri barely kept his tone from a snarl, “Byleth was captured for nearly three months, I  _ will _ remain here to support him as he recovers. As for an heir, there will be other methods in determining who will succeed my throne when I pass.”

“Your Majesty, it has always been tradition for a Blaiddyd to-”

“Even if I were to, as you suggest,  _ cheat _ on my Husband, there is no guarantee she would bear a child with the crest. Would you have me try repeatedly? What if no child with a crest is born before I am too old? What shall happen then?”

Ivan shrunk in his seat, good. But Dimitri was not finished.

“Furthermore, I am the last who currently bears this crest, but not the last with the Blaiddyd blood. Would it not be just as legetimite for a child of my Uncle, who  _ could _ theoretically sire a crest, to succeed me?”

Nevermind the crests were horrible, wretched things, born of slaughter. Dimitri would have the Blaiddyd crest die with him, frankly.

“Yes, your Majesty. My apologies for overstepping.”

“While I would have put it  _ far _ more tactfully,” Another advisor spoke, Giana, “You cannot remain at the monastery for much longer.”

“I will remain as long as I am needed. I will not fall behind on my duties, paperwork will still be reviewed and done. Should there be a need for me, then people can come here.”

“Lady Rhea had been imprisoned for years, yes?” Ivan opened his mouth again, to Dimitri’s growing wrath, “She recovered quite swiftly, surely the Archbishop will do the same?”

“They are two entirely different scenarios, do  _ not _ compare them.”

“Yes,” Giana mused, “Lady Rhea had been gone for years.”

Dimitri ground his teeth together, “Archbishop Byleth had been tortured, Lady Rhea, had not been. He was deprived of food and water for months, I will not have him be rushed in his recovery.” 

“He had already been healing for a week before he returned, right? Surely he’d have recovered by now.”

Dimitri slammed a fist on the table, the wood splintered and cracked, “You know  _ nothing _ of what you speak! Byleth was chained to the ground like a damn animal, he was starved, mutilated, tortured, and drugged!”

Ivan sunk into his seat, Giana covered her mouth with a hand, looking positively pale. Dimitri pulled his fist from the cracked wood, thankful the table still stood, and rested his hands upon his lap, lest his temper flare again.

“He may need months to recover, I will not have you fools speak poorly of him when in such a state. It is nothing short of a  _ miracle _ he still breaths.”

“I… Was not aware of the severity of his capture,” Giana murmured, “We had presumed it was for leverage, or a boon… Or something of similar nature.”

“No, it was not,” Dimitri massaged the bridge of his nose and drew in a steadying breath, “So I maintain, I will remain here until Byleth has recovered.”

“Of course,” The second eldest of the advisors spoke, a woman that had been around when his father still lived, “So long as you can maintain your presence here, through the documents and occasional meetings such as this, I do not foresee any trouble.”

Dimitri nodded, “Thank you, Irina.”

* * *

Dimitri wanted nothing more than to throw the stack of papers he carried onto the desk and just collapse into bed beside his love when he reached their room. He couldn't, at the very least Dimitri would have to review the taxes for the current quarter and the stock in their reserves for if a particularly harsh winter swept through.

Not that winters in Faerghus were  _ ever _ mild.

Dimitri shifted the pile to one arm and opened the door. He wondered if Byleth was still asleep.

There was something beside Byleth’s bed, a shadow hunched over in front of the end table. Dimitri barely kept himself from lunging at the intruder, as they looked up almost immediately upon his entrance.

_ Jeritza. _

One glance to Byleth assured Dimitri he was fine, still asleep and as far as he could tell, hadn't moved from his current position since Dimitri had left him. No blood, or any sign of a struggle. Byleth was safe.

Dimitri frowned at the silent man, and set the paperwork down on the desk, “... What are you doing here?”

“Could I not ask the same of you?” Jeritza responded, voice a monotone drawl.

“Byleth and I share this room,” Dimitri snorted, “We’re  _ engaged.” _

“Mm.”

Did… Byleth not tell Jeritza of their relationship? Why would he omit something like that?

Dimitri reminded himself that between being drugged and mutilated, Byleth probably had very few coherent thoughts to begin with. He shrugged it off and pulled ink from the top drawer of the desk, and shrugged his overcoat over the back of the chair.

Jeritza still remained.

“You can leave, you know.”

“I am aware.”

When he did not move from his position Dimitri stifled a sigh, he knew the man meant no harm, surely. Yet Dimitri could not shake the crawling uncomfortable feeling down his spine every time he saw him. After everything he did, Dimitri found it hard to trust him. Let alone be comfortable with him in the same room as Byleth, when in such a weakened state.

He recalled the strange obsession he had with fighting Byleth.

Dimitri hoped that desire no longer lingered.

“I have work to get done,” Dimitri tried, “While I appreciate you watching over him whilst I was gone, I would prefer to work alone, if you do not mind.”

Jeritza stared at him, tilted his head, then nodded. The man stood in a single smooth motion, grabbed the scythe he had leant against the wall, and left without further word. Dimitri waited until he heard footsteps descending the stairs, then locked the door for good measure.

He knelt beside Byleth’s side of the bed, and brushed his hand over his love’s forehead. It was clammy, but did not seem hotter than it normally might be. Dimitri stood and pressed a kiss on his crown, then returned to his desk to get work done.

When the sun disappeared from the sky, Dimitri undressed and crawled into bed beside his Beloved. He blindly sought out Byleth’s hand and held it to his chest. He took comfort in the weight of his hand against his own, despite the gaps his ring and pinky finger left behind.

* * *

Dimitri awoke with a jolt. 

The sky was still dark, not even peeks of the sun could be seen from the window. While not one to sleep in terribly late, unless Dimitri was plagued by a nightmare, he normally slept at least until the sun rose. He didn't understand why his body had woken him with such panic.

Until he felt nails dig into his hand, where he and Byleth had intertwined their fingers. He immediately sat up and found Byleth curled in on himself, trembling violently. His eyes were closed, yet his mouth moved. As if frantically trying to speak, with no sound coming from his lips.

Dimitri grabbed his other hand, where he had been digging his nails into the flesh of his shoulder. He pulled at the offending limb, and tried to piece together what to do. He brought Byleth up with him, cradled his head against his chest, and wrapped his arms around him, careful not to let Byleth’s hands claw off either of their skins.

“It's alright Byleth, I’m here,” He whispered and buried his face in Byleth’s tangled hair, “You're alright, everything's ok. I got you.”

Dimitri wasn't sure if Byleth could even hear him, the hand not keeping Byleth from scratching himself, moved to the side of Byleth’s head to brush some hair away from the sweaty skin. He rocked them quietly until Byleth’s violent shaking stopped. 

It felt like years until Byleth relaxed against him, and seemed to actually wake up, “Dimitri?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat and pulled back to stare at the man. Byleth did not appear to be upset, confused and tired, sure, but it didn't look like he was haunted by a nightmare. Perhaps it had been forgotten as he awoke.

“I’m here,” He murmured and rested his face in the crook of Byleth’s neck, “Are you alright?”

“Yes… I… Hm… I think I was dreaming.”

“You were having a nightmare,” Dimitri explained, “Do you remember anything?”

Byleth shook his head, and frankly, Dimitri was relieved by that. He kissed Byleth’s forehead and guided the man to sit across from him proper. As far as his limited knowledge went, it did look as though Byleth was unbothered, largely.

“Good,” He breathed and stroked his thumb along the point of Byleth’s cheekbone, “Good.”

“... I frightened you.”

“You didn't,” Dimitri assured, “I was frightened  _ for _ you, but you yourself didnt scare me. I was worried.”

Byleth’s brows furrowed, then he nodded once and leaned into Dimitri’s hand, his own coming to rest upon it.

“Do you want to go back to sleep?” Dimitri offered, and Byleth nodded again. 

He laid back down and let Byleth drape himself over his chest, head right above his heart. It did not take long until Byleth was snoring and peaceful once more. Dimitri couldn't let himself fall asleep again, not so soon. He needed to be sure Byleth was alright after that.

Dimitri busied himself with combing his hand through Byleth’s hair, watching the seafoam glide between his fingers. 

Hopefully, this rest would be a more peaceful one.

* * *

Faerghus was woefully unprepared for a harsh winter, should one come. The former Empire was terribly low on rations themselves, and while they may not be subject to the harsh weather his homeland will be, food will only last so long. With farmers only returning to the fields again recently, it will be a year before they have a solid income of food.

The former Alliance was faring just fine, as expected. He knew Claude had set in place some very strong foundation before he left.

Dimitri pulled a blank sheet of parchment from the desk, and dipped his quill. He would write to him and gain his advice, the insight would no doubt be of great help to Fódlan. Sheets rustled behind him, and Dimitri set the quill aside in favor of leaning over the back of his chair. Byleth sat up, his hair an absolute mess, though he was awake.

“Good morning, Beloved.”

“Mmording.”

Dimitri laughed at his slurred speech, and stood to sit beside him on the bed. He brushed the hair from his face into a more manageable tangle, “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” Byleth yawned, a single sharp canine shone in the light of the morning.

Dimitri’s brows furrowed and cupped Byleth’s face, the man grunted and his ears flipped back, but he did not move from Dimitri’s hands.

“... Are you missing a tooth?”

Byleth nodded, “Made a dagger or something out of it.”

“I see… Does it hurt? Or affect your eating?”

“Not really,” Byleth closed his eyes, “It’s numb mostly, feels weird when I run my tongue over it.”

Dimitri released Byleth’s cheeks, “Alright, speaking of, are you hungry?”

When Byleth nodded, Dimitri stood, “I shall run down to the cafeteria then, is there any food you have a particular taste for?”

Byleth didn't answer, instead his brows furrowed, and he began to try and untangle himself from the sheets. Dimitri watched for a moment, before helping him, “I can walk you down if you’d like.”

“No.”

When Byleth’s legs hung over the side of the bed, Dimitri stepped back to give him space to stand. He wasn't sure if the man would be able to use his legs properly so fast. Yet with the hard set of his brow, Dimitri knew Byleth was determined to try, if nothing else. As unfortunately expected, Byleth  _ had _ been able to stand on his own, but his legs gave out when he tried to take a step.

Dimitri caught him before he hit the floor.

He eased Byleth back to sitting down on the bed, he did not know what words to say that’d comfort Byleth, so he remained silent. The man balled his hands into fists at his thighs, though his expression remained passive. Dimitri couldn't imagine the frustration he felt.

Maybe he could get Byleth a cane? 

His thoughts were interrupted when Byleth stood again. Dimitri remained glued to his side as he took shaky steps across the room. He had to use the walls and furniture as support, but he was walking. 

“This is ridiculous,” Byleth muttered, likely more to himself than speaking aloud truly. 

Still, Dimitri responded even so, “You are still recovering Byleth, it will take time. That is to be expected.”

“I should be able to  _ walk _ by now,” Byleth hissed. 

Dimitri was taken aback by the sheer rage in his voice, he rested his hand on Byleth’s shoulder. He hoped the action was comforting, “You haven't exactly used your legs in a while, Love. That you are able to stand and even walk across the room is amazing, you should be celebrating that, not worrying over what you cannot yet do.”

The hand not supporting his weight against the wall came up to rest on Dimitri’s, Byleth drew in and let out a heavy breath.

Dimitri pulled away and went to the closet, he retrieved the cloak he crafted for Byleth and returned to the man. He draped it over his shoulders, the brisk chill of the morning had not yet left the monastery, and in his light clothes, Dimitri worried Byleth could catch a chill. Byleth’s breath hitched when Dimitri clasped the cloak.

“You have it.”

Dimitri inclined his head, “The cloak? Dagur brought it back.”

Byleth frantically patted the cloak down, as if searching for something. Then, from the hood, tied to a small hole pricked through the heavy wool and fur, hung a silver ring. Byleth untied the leather and re-tied it around his neck. 

_ Their engagement ring. _

“I… I had thought it lost,” Byleth explained, and cradled the warped ring to his chest with a shaky fist, “Nemesis said he destroyed all that was in the forest. I didn't dare hope.”

Dimitri rested his hand over Byleth’s, “The forest Seteth had brought you to is fine. Aside from where you fought, there was no sign of damage.”

Byleth nodded, “That is… Good.”

Dimitri wondered why the bastard would lie about such a nonsensical thing. Though, given what he had done, Dimitri supposed logic was far beyond that  _ thing’s _ reach.

“Would you like me to walk you down to the cafeteria?” Dimitri asked again, this time, Byleth nodded and upon releasing the ring around his neck, sought out Dimitri’s arm.

Dimitri waited until Byleth oriented himself, then opened the door for the two of them to depart. It was rather early still, Dimitri did not imagine the breakfast rush had yet arrived. Though, it would not be long before it did. Dimitri wondered if Byleth would rather take food and go, or if he intended to actually sit at the table as he would under any other circumstance.

Dimitri would remain by his side no matter what he chose.

* * *

There were far more people in the dining hall than Dimitri had anticipated. Still, Byleth only faltered for a moment before he continued forward, Dimitri at his side as support. It did not take long for the room to be alite in hushed whispers, many heads turning to get a glimpse of Byleth, likely for the first time since he had returned. 

Dimitri wanted nothing more than to shield Byleth from their blatant stares, and hide him from their gaze. His brows furrowed when he felt Byleth’s nails dig into his arm. The man’s chin was held high, face a practiced neutral gaze. To anyone else, he seemed unbothered by his current state. Perhaps oblivious to their eyes following his every limp.

Byleth’s hands trembled, and Dimitri knew better.

Maybe he should have insisted on getting food for him, to spare him from this nonsense.

Byleth’s head snapped to his left, just as a joyous voice called out to them, “Professor! Your Majesty! Come sit with us.”

Dimitri tilted his head enough to see the familiar sight of friends gathered around the end of a table. He was far from surprised when Byleth made a beeline to their table. Dimitri supported Byleth’s weight while he pulled out a chair and helped the man ease down into the seat.

Annette shoved some food in front of Byleth the moment he was settled, “Look! Mercie and I baked some cookies this morning.”

Mercedes laughed, “We had to leave for the cooks to prepare breakfast, so we didn't bake as much as we would have liked.”

Byleth eyed the food, and gingerly took one of the thin wafers. Dimitri sat in the empty seat beside him.

It was then he noticed Jeritza sitting opposite of him at the table, beside Mercedes. He too had his own plate of them. The man did not speak, eyes glazed over almost in a trace. Dimitri found the way his eyes had immediately snapped to Byleth unsettling, but he bit back any comment he could make. 

He had to remember Jeritza had been a victim, just as Byleth was.

“Oh! The breakfast today smells quite good, I was about to grab myself and Emile a plate, would you like one too, Professor?”

Byleth eyed the growing line, then nodded to Mercedes. She patted his hand and stood, with Annette on her heel to get in line for the food. Dimitri would get his own when they came back, he didn't like the idea of leaving Byleth alone with  _ ‘Emile’ _ again.

Dimitri found the thought startling. He wondered why he had such an innate dislike for the man, despite not doing anything to warrant his ire. Aside from actions committed in the past, but Dimitri should know better than any, one could grow from what they were. Perhaps a part of him associated Jeritza with Byleth’s capture.

He decided that was likely the case, but still did not move from his place beside his fiancé. Byleth had nearly finished the plate of sweets by the time Annette and Mercedes returned with several plates of food. A standard breakfast all around, bread, egg, and thick slices of pork.

Annette handed Dimitri one, he had half a mind to refuse it, but accepted it gratefully. 

Byleth poked around the food with a fork. He said his tooth did not bother him, Dimitri was inclined to believe that, yet the almost cautious way he approached food now was… Strange. He would inquire as to the reason later, when in private. Dimitri did not want to make Byleth uncomfortable.

Dimitri ate his fill. Given everything tasted alike to him, in that there was no taste, Dimitri found the texture of food increasingly more important to him. Things that were slimy, or stuck in his throat he tended to avoid, such as runny eggs or some kinds of butter. Still, he had no room to complain, and ate what was brought so kindly to him.

“Mm, figures,” Jeritza’s voice drew Dimitri’s attention back to reality.

From the corner of his eye he could see Byleth’s face scrunch up in disgust. After a moment, the man spit out the meat onto his plate, looking ashen pale.

“Byleth? Are you alright?” Mercedes asked, her hand reached out to cover his, though Byleth pulled away and used a nearby napkin to try and… Scrub his mouth out?

Dimitri offered Byleth some water, and the man downed it feverishly, then seemed to calm down. He had never seen Byleth  _ spit out _ food before. He glanced at Mercedes' and Annette’s plates, the meat was gone on theirs. So there wasn't anything wrong with it, as far as he could tell. 

Jeritza continued to eat the pork on his own plate without much of a reaction past his initial words.

“Was there something wrong with it?” Annette asked, her brows furrowed and she rubbed Byleth’s back. He shook his head.

“Then what-”

“It is the meat itself,” Jeritza spoke, upon finishing his plate, “Yes?”

Byleth nodded, and scrubbed at his lips with the back of his hand.

Mercedes tilted her head at her brother, “What do you mean, Emile?”

“We often only had red meats available to eat, as such, when I was able to sneak him food, it was only that.”

Ah.

Dimitri would keep that in mind for the future. It was no wonder Byleth would be adverse to certain foods after his captivity. Dimitri offered Byleth a slice of his bread, and the man accepted it quietly. Bread was fine, then. He’d have to make sure whenever Byleth visited his home, that there’d be plenty of other foods available to eat. They didn't get much fish so far north.

“Your Majesty, sorry to interrupt.”

Dimitri’s attention left Byleth to settle on the guard that had approached him, “Yes?”

“You are needed in a financial meeting, your advisors sent for you, M’Lord.”

He would have had the man to tell them to wait, but Byleth’s hand on his arm stopped the words from leaving his mouth. 

“I will be fine, Dima.”

Dimitri wanted to argue, but Annette gave him a determined thumbs-up, and he knew the two women would take care of Byleth should he need it. He nodded, kissed Byleth, and stood.

“Very well, allow me to change into more suitable clothing, I shall meet them in the war room.”

The guard bowed, and made a swift retreat.

When he placed a hand on Byleth’s shoulder, the man patted it with his own.

“You can fetch me if you need me, alright? I will come the  _ moment _ you call for me.”

“I know,” Byleth grunted, “I am not concerned. I can fend for myself, Dimitri.”

“Right, yes. Of course.”

With that, Dimitri left to return to the room he and his love shared. Showing up to a formal meeting in evening wear would be highly inappropriate. He should also brush his hair, he mused, lest Flayn get a hold of him again.

* * *

Dimitri handed the pile of finished documents to Irina before he left the meeting. The woman would be returning to Fhirdiad within the week, and promised she’d make sure the documents got into their proper places as soon as she got back. Dimitri trusted her, and he sent the finished letters out with the Monestary’s couriers.

Claude would likely get his in about a fortnight, while he was unsure how long it would take for him to reach the southern territories. He needed a full stock on their current food stores, and also wrote to the construction company if they would be willing to be hired on with helping rebuild Duscur. The meeting had been simple enough, and was thankful neither the topic of Byleth’s health or heirs came up. 

The state of people’s wellbeing was more important than worrying over whether or not Dimitri would attempt to lay with some woman he had no desire to. Dimitri was unsure if Byleth would even  _ want _ children, if they were to get a surrogate. It would be something he’d discuss at a far later point, Byleth had much more important matters to concern himself with.

Dimitri imagined in the late afternoon, Byleth would have tired, and likely wanted to return to the room. So that was where Dimitri searched for him first. 

As he approached the final step of the third floor, he was a bit bewildered to see the door cracked open. Perhaps whoever had taken him back upstairs had forgotten to close it fully behind them. 

He wondered if Byleth had lunch yet.

Dimitri eased the door open the rest of the way, and stopped in his tracks.

A vase was broken, a small table upturned, Byleth was on the ground with blood upon his face, Jeritza had his chin pinched in hand. 

Dimitri saw red.

In a single motion, Dimitri grabbed the bastard by the hair and flung him into the nearby shelves. He followed up with a hand around his throat, and lifted him into the air.

“How  _ dare _ you,” Dimitri snarled, “After all he has done for you, how fucking dare you lay your hands on him, you pathetic  _ whelp. _ ”

“Dimitri.”

“I’ll break your neck,” He spat, his fingers tightening around the pale skin. The man’s hands came up to try and pry his fist away from his throat, but to no avail. They felt no different than a mere baby grasping at his hand.

Dimitri reveled in the way his eyes widened in terror.

“ _ Dimitri! _ ”

He froze at the sound of his name from Byleth’s mouth. Dimitri turned his head enough to look at his love, and faltered when he was met with the hard set of his brow.

“Put him  _ down. _ ”

Dimitri hesitated, Byleth was covering an eye with a hand, blood smeared on his forehead. He was injured, clearly. What sort of monster would have attacked him when he already was in such a vulnerable state? Still, he lowered his arm enough for Jeritza’s feet to touch the floor, though did not remove his hand from his throat.

It was then that Mercedes walked in, “You should really be more careful, Professor, it's a good thing we were still-”

She froze when her eyes met Dimitri, and the water basin she had been carrying dropped to the floor with a clatter. The water sloshed over wood and carpet alike.

Mercedes stumbled back, her hands over her mouth, “Y-Your Majesty!”

Dimitri released Jeritza, the man slumped against the bookshelf and rubbed his throat. But he was fine, more or less. He… Had been mistaken, it seemed.

He knelt before Byleth and gently eased the hand covering his eye away from his face. There was a cut along his brow, it didn't seem terribly deep, though head wounds could often be deceiving. 

“I tripped over the rug,” Byleth stated, his tone cold enough to send a shiver down his spine, “Emile was checking how severe the cut was, while Mercedes retrieved water to clean it with.”

He fucked up. He really,  _ really, _ fucked up.

“Oh, I… I see,” He stood and turned to Jer— _ Emile, _ “My apologies, I shouldn’t have assumed-”

Emile rubbed at the dark splotches forming at his neck, but nodded. Dimitri wasn't sure if that was an acknowledgement of his apology, or not. Guilt tore at his belly. He thought he was past that part of him, thought he was finished being that bloodthirsty beast. Yet in that brief moment, Dimitri took  _ joy _ in the terror on the man’s face as he nearly squeezed the life from his eyes.

What was wrong with him?

“I.. I should go. My sincerest apologies.” 

Dimitri ducked past Mercedes and made a beeline for the stairs. He did not stop his brisk walk until he was in the training hall. It was empty, thankfully. He needed to shake off that itching beneath his skin. 

He pulled the nearest lance from the weapons rack and lobbed it at one of the many training dummies staked into the sand. The wood tore through the burlap and cotton head, lodging it and the spear into the stone just beyond where it stood. 

It wasn't enough. 

Dimitri yanked the spear from the stone and impaled the same dummy, the wooden stake keeping the stuffed target upright splintered and shattered from the force. Dimitri tossed the warped spear aside and moved to the next target. This time he favored his fists.

He tore into the training dummies like the feral animal he was. Ripped them apart with his bare hands, as he had so nearly done to an innocent man. The burlap gave way easily to his fingers, stitches and fabric alike bursting and ripping from his strength. He needed to  _ destroy _ them, it’d be the only thing to ease the burning behind his eyes.

When no more targets remained standing, Dimitri collapsed onto the steps of the training hall, and buried his face in his hands.

What was  _ wrong _ with him?

He thought he was better. He had prayed he no longer could stoop to such disgusting levels again. Dimitri had swore he’d never take another life with glee again.

And yet. 

He almost did.

“There you are.”

Dimitri didn't move his head from his knees when Dedue approached and sat beside him. 

“Byleth told me what happened.”

Dimitri grunted.

They sat in silence for some time, Dedue was a familiar and much needed anchor in his swirling tsunami of emotions. Was Byleth afraid of him? Did the man worry that one day, he may snap and do the same to him? Dimitri dug his fingers into his calves at the notion.

“I almost killed him,” Dimitri sighed, and lifted his head to stare at the wreckage he had created.

Fragments of the training dummies littered the sand, torn to shreds as if a wild animal had been through there. Perhaps one had been, perhaps one still resided within the halls.

“Yes,” Dedue hummed, “Though, you stopped before you did.”

“Does not excuse the fact I tried.”

“No, it doesn't.”

“I’m a  _ King, _ I’m supposed to protect people, not strangle them before even assessing the situation!” Dimitri pulled at his hair, “What the hell is wrong with me?”

“You had believed Byleth to be in danger, yes?”

Dimitri did not respond.

“You acted to protect him. Though, you should assess why you were so quick to presume the worst. Tell me, if I had been where Emile was at the time, would you have believed me to have injured Byleth?”

Dimitri sputtered, “Of course not.”

“Then why did you think that of Emile?”

He frowned, after a moment he replied with a sigh, “I… Do not trust him.”

“Why?”

“He’s hurt Byleth in the past, he was so…  _ Obsessed _ with killing him then, I worry he may still wish harm upon him.”

“Emile is far from the only one here who has raised a hand to Byleth, including yourself, Dimitri.”

He flinched at the memories. Dimitri had been a monster then, lashing out at anyone and everyone that came too close to him, his Beloved included. The memories of what he had said to Byleth, how he would shove the man away from him if he grew too close… It was shameful. Wretched, absolutely vile, how he had treated Byleth.

Guilt and shame clawed at his spine.

“I know,” Dimitri murmured, “I don't know  _ why _ I dislike him so much. Seeing him near Byleth just… Unnerves me.”

Dedue nodded, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, “If I may speak freely…”

“Always, my friend.”

“You are jealous, I believe,” He stated, the man pulled no punches when he spoke, “Emile and Byleth now share a bond you never will. They have lived through something traumatic, and had to rely on each other to keep themselves alive. Without Emile, Byleth would likely be dead, as I understand it.”

Dimitri’s brows furrowed, but he remained silent as Dedue continued.

“You are worried, then, Emile may try and take Byleth from you?”

He… Did not think he had given it much thought. Perhaps he was. Emile knew what happened far better than Dimitri did, he was by Byleth’s side when Dimitri could not be. Dimitri had failed at his vow to protect Byleth.

“Tell me, Dimitri, do you believe Byleth to be jealous of you and I?”

That caught Dimitri off guard, “No, why would he be?”

“We, like they had, lived through a terrible event, several really. I trust you with my life, because of what you did for me then.”

“As do I,” Dimitri was quick to affirm, “I had only done what was right, you and your people were innocent.”

Dedue nodded, “There are things I would only confide to in you, and never to Ashe. Do you believe my love for him is less because of that?”

Dimitri shook his head.

“Then why worry that Byleth’s love for you is?”

He had not thought of it like that. It was true, he trusted Byleth with his heart and soul, everything he had, yet… As Dedue had said, he did not think he could really talk in depth about what had happened to him both in the Tragedy of Duscur, and during his imprisonment before his ‘execution’. Not for lack of trust, it simply was a hard topic.

Sure, if Byleth ever asked for details, Dimitri would relinquish them without hesitation, but it was not something he would give out freely. Even to his love.

Dedue was right, as he always was, it seemed.

“Jealousy is part of life, such things will not leave your mind overnight. Neither will your sickness. There will be days as though you were never ill to begin with, and there will be some days where you wonder if you ever improved. Such is the nature of things.”

Dimitri didn't feel better, in truth. He was still ashamed and disgusted with himself, but he supposed more context to his emotions helped. It gave him something to work on, to try and change and improve. 

“I need to apologize.”

Dedue chuckled, “That would be a good idea.”

“Thank you, Dedue. Truly, thank you.”

Dedue grasped his shoulder, “Always, my friend.”

* * *

Dimitri eventually found Emile with his sister in the greenhouse. 

Mercedes has the sleeves of her dress pushed up to her elbows, and was showing Emile the difference between sprouts and weeds. He seemed interested, though his eyes shot to Dimitri once he entered. Dimitri’s skin crawled.

Mercedes followed his eyes, then stood when she noticed Dimitri. She brushed dirt from her dress and smiled at him, Dimitri couldn't help but wonder if it was forced, “Hello, Your Majesty.”

“Hello,” He rolled the ring Byleth had given him between his fingers, then addressed Emile, “We need to talk.”

Emile’s expression did not change, his eyes simply moved from him, to Mercedes. She seemed nervous, given the way her hands were clasped together. 

She spoke for her brother, “About what, Your Majesty?”

“Dimitri, please,” He corrected quietly, “And I must apologize for my actions earlier today.”

Mercedes tilted her head, then nodded to her brother, who stood in a single fluid motion. Dimitri wasn't sure if there would be a place appropriate for a proper apology, and he did not believe dragging the man into the eyes of the public would be comfortable for either of them. So, he bowed where he was.

“I am deeply sorry for how I treated you, I had assumed the worst with no justification behind my actions. I do not expect your forgiveness, only to assure you such an event will never happen again, and if there is anything in my power I can do to make it up to you, I shall.”

“Ok.”

Dimitri faltered a bit, unsure how to take such a response from him. Emile did not seem bothered, and after speaking, turned around to continue plucking at the garden. Seemingly done with the conversation.

It reminded him of Byleth, shockingly.

Mercedes covered a laugh with her hand, “Do not worry Dimitri, thank you for taking the time to apologize.”

Dimitri shuffled from foot to foot, then nodded, “Yes, well. It was only right.”

“You should check up on Byleth, I told him to get some sleep but… Well, you know him.”

Dimitri laughed, “Yes. I shall do just that, I will see you around, Mercedes, Emile.”

He left the greenhouse in a bit better spirits.

* * *

Byleth was still in their room, though not sleeping. Instead the man had a book open on his lap, and was scouring the pages with a frown. It didn't look familiar, Dimitri wondered what he was reading.

After Dimitri closed the door behind him, Byleth looked up. His expression unreadable, was he angry? Scared? Dimitri hesitated at the door, perhaps he should leave. The last thing he wanted was to make Byleth uncomfortable.

“You are back.”

Dimitri nodded.

Byleth closed the book and set it beside him on the nightstand. The mess from before had been cleaned. 

“I am sorry,” Dimitri spoke, the words tumbled from his mouth in a hurry, “I had attacked your friend without even considering my actions. I’ve apologized to him already, but I must express my sorrow and regret to you as well. I… I hope you know that I-I… I would never… I would never hurt you in such a way. I-”

“Dimitri.”

“Yes?”

Byleth patted the open spot beside him in the bed. Dimitri hesitated before kicking his boots off and sitting beside the man. Byleth held out his open palm, and Dimitri intertwined their fingers without a thought. Their hands fit together perfectly.

“Are you alright?”

“Why ask me such a thing? After what I did?”

“ _ Dimitri, _ ” Byleth frowned.

“I am… Ashamed by what I’ve done. I feel horrible, I had  _ thought _ that side of me was gone.”

Byleth rubbed his thumb along Dimitri’s knuckles, “All have a side to them they do not like. It will always be a part of you, and that part of you may come out in times of stress or grief. You did what you could to make amends, and I am proud of you for that.”

“I nearly killed him, how are you not angry at me?”

He shrugged, “I had been initially, but the anger disappeared as you came to your senses. I realized then, what the scene may have looked like when you walked in. In truth, I likely would have responded in kind myself, had the situation been different.”

Dimitri wasn't sure if hearing Byleth would have reacted as he did was comforting or not.

“You are not a monster, Dimitri,” Byleth’s voice was even, yet warm, “You reacted out of fear, as you had in the past.”

“Fear?”

Byleth shrugged, “Your ‘anger’ as others put it back then never struck me as true rage, in truth. To me, it was the action of someone who had been backed so far into a corner, they lashed out at everything close to them, to protect themselves.”

“I wanted Edelgard’s head on a  _ stake, _ Byleth.”

Byleth shrugged, “You worried she would harm others as you had believed she had harmed your family. You were scared those that had died would be left unfulfilled, and be unable to pass into the afterlife.”

Dimitri would need time to process that perspective. 

He brought Byleth’s hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to his scarred knuckles, “Thank you, Byleth.”

Byleth in turn brought Dimitri’s fingers to his own lips, and smiled at him. Dimitri’s chest grew warm at the sight. 

He leant close to the man and placed a gentle kiss upon his cheek, “I love you, Byleth, with all that I am.”

“As do I, Dima.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shlabam. 
> 
> Thank you all for your wonderful comments on the last chapter, I'm so happy to see people are enjoying the fic so much! Definitely keeps me motivated, and I am quite excited to see how you all react to the coming events in the story.
> 
> I totally forgot to in the last chapter, but here is my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/vulturepops) if you want to come scream with me or somethin.


	18. Gifts For Those Deserving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you trust me?”
> 
> “Not in the slightest.”
> 
> Rhea chuckled, “That is fair. Think about what I’ve said, the time for you to return to our people may be soon.”

Dimitri knew he wasn't going to get anything done for the rest of the night, not with Byleth’s head cushioned on his hip. He was still going to try, if nothing else it would give him time to read over the current documents needing to be reviewed. It had been four days since Byleth had returned to Garreg Mach with him.

He slept a lot, more than Dimitri really believed to be healthy, though he also knew Byleth wasn't human. Rules of what he would have anticipated from such did not apply to his Beloved. Still, he worried all the same.

Nothing pressing had come in over the last few days, he had sent his letters out two days ago, and didn't expect responses for quite some time. Mild territory disputes, drama between lords and dukes, nothing Dimitri was not accustomed to dealing with. The odd marriage proposal or two were scattered between the documents, and promptly crumpled aside. 

His patience for such had long since passed. If those writing him were too foolish to recognize he had no interest in any other than Byleth, they were not worth the time writing back. Especially given he made sure Irina would make it as public as possible that he was courting Byleth.

She did advise him to get on with the ransom and marriage, as apparently things had been drawn out to a point some were beginning to talk. Dimitri appreciated the heads-up, but had no plans on rushing Byleth into marriage. The pace they had set together seemed to be working just fine, and Dimitri was content with how things were.

Though, he did want to do the ransom soon. If for no other reason than to thank his friends for all they had done for him. A grand party would be held, he imagined. He’d shower the lot of them with gifts in ‘exchange’ for the hand of their former Professor. 

He was eager to know who they’d decide to be the decoy as well. Still, there were a lot of preparations to be done, letters to formulate, food to be ordered, not to mention the request of what remained of his treasury. Bringing it to Garreg Mach would be… Risky, he supposed. He did not imagine Byleth to be well enough for him to leave for quite some time yet.

Byleth had been improving, he could walk small distances by himself without support, though still struggled with longer treks and stairs.

Dimitri ran his hand through Byleth’s hair. The man grunted and nosed his face closer to Dimitri’s stomach with a content rumble. Curious, Dimitri continued to pet Byleth’s hair, and sure enough, the ‘rumble’ delved into something more steady. It was almost as if… He was purring.

Dimitri covered his mouth to prevent from laughing and waking his Beloved up. He stilled his hand, though the noise continued. It was quiet, barely audible, but he could feel the odd vibrations from Byleth’s throat against his thigh. 

Did all Nabateans purr? Was that just… A _thing_ they did?

Awed and utterly charmed, Dimitri set his papers aside to continue stroking his love’s hair. 

He must have been too exuberant about it, as the purring stopped and Byleth began to stir. Dimitri was a touch disappointed, though it was far outweighed by seeing Byleth yawn and turn his head to look up at Dimitri with glazed eyes.

“You fell asleep again,” Dimitri hummed.  
  


Byleth huffed, and buried his face back into Dimitri’s stomach. His hand went back to stroking through the man’s hair, Byleth melted further onto his lap. 

“I was thinking,” Dimitri started, Byleth turned his head to make eye contact, “How would you feel about doing the ransom soon?”

“Ransom?”

“Ah, part of the courting ritual. Come to think of it, I do not think I ever really explained what it was to you.”

Byleth rolled onto his back, Dimitri had his full attention.

“It’s roots come from an archaic tradition, and has changed quite a lot since its original purpose. Modern folk honestly just use it as an excuse to throw a party.”

Byleth nodded, so he continued.

“The gist of it, is for the courter to give a dowry to their Beloved’s family. It’s often a big goofy display, and usually will involve someone pretending to be the desired, and… It is a bit hard to explain in a way that doesn't sound ridiculous.”

“It sounds like a lot.”

Dimitri nodded, “It can be. I remember attending a few as a child and young teen. I know you are not one for crowded events, so I thought to just invite our friends. I… I figured since you considered them yours before, you’d be alright with them playing the family role, in this instance.”

“They _are_ my family,” Byleth stated, “Of course I am.”

“That is wonderful.”

Byleth turned his face away from Dimitri, and pulled his knees into his chest, most of his weight resting on Dimitri’s thigh and hip. It was a guarded position, one an animal might make to appear smaller, less noticeable. 

“Byleth?”

“I do not know when I’ll walk again.”

“You can walk now, Beloved. Just because you need a bit of extra help, does not mean you are incapable.”

“Yes, but it sounds as though that would require a lot of movement and standing.”

Dimitri remembered there being chairs, though in all honesty, much of the events went over his head. He was either too young to understand, or too wrought with grief and anger to care. He turned Byleth’s head to face him, though the pale green eyes did not meet his own. Dimitri frowned, and ran his thumb along Byleth’s sharp cheekbone.

“There can be as much or as little walking as you desire. The party has nothing to do with standing, frankly. It is meant to be a celebration, those aren't limited to standing around to my knowledge.”

That seemed to ease Byleth’s concerns, though the man still appeared guarded. Dimitri worried he had pushed too fast. Perhaps he should have waited to even bring up the notion of the ransom until Byleth had fully recovered. Slowly, Byleth uncurled from his position and returned to being sprawled out upon his lap. 

“We do not have to have one before you are comfortable, you know. I am content to take this at your pace, Byleth.”

“You _want_ to do it.”

“Well, yes. But as far as I am concerned, I have the rest of my life to devote to you Byleth. I am happy to just be beside you like this.”

Byleth nodded, then eased himself to a sitting position. Dimitri moved his arm to allow for Byleth to sit up fully, “You want to do it, so, let us do it.”

“Well, it’ll be some time before it can happen anyway, we’d need to plan for the date, send out invitations, make sure food is taken care of. Not to mention getting the dowry prepared.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Nothing, traditionally the one receiving the dowry would…” Dimitri trailed off, then inquired, “Do you _want_ to help?”

“Yes.”

Dimitri nodded, it was not conventional, but he supposed their relationship never was. A mercenary and a prince? A professor and student? _A Goddess and a King?_

When had they _ever_ been conventional?

“Alright, you can pick out the date we decide to have the party on, and you can send the invitations, if you would like. So you are in control of who does, or doesn’t, come.”

Byleth nodded, and scooted to the edge of the bed. Dimitri kept an eye on him, prepared to catch him if he were to fall, but the man was able to hobble over to the calendar he kept beside the desk in the room. Dimitri didn't usually pay much attention to it, though he knew Byleth wrote on it quite often. 

He flipped through the pages, lips pursed in thought. Dimitri let him think and returned his attention back to the documents on his leg.

A couple farmers south were having trouble sprouting crops, and feared the land may now be infertile. Dimitri tried to picture a map of Fódlan, and imagine where the crop plots were located. If his very rough memory was correct, the ones that wrote to him had plots that unfortunately fell within the lines of battle. Soldiers and horses alike trampled the ground, and spilled their blood upon its soil.

Dimitri didn't know anything about farming, though he could imagine it would theoretically cause issues growing crops. Even if the crops did grow, he was unsure if the food would exactly be safe to eat. 

Dimitri would have to send a couple flyers to the former Empire’s territory, and survey the damages. He knew there was fertile land further north, that he would be happy to give them, but if he could avoid having them move too far from their homes, Dimitri would prefer that.

“15th of Horsebow Moon.”

Dimitri’s eye shot up from his paperwork, “Hm?”

“15th of Horsebow Moon,” Byleth repeated, “For the ransom party.”

“Oh!” Dimitri thought it over briefly, it wasn't too far away from their current date, but it was still a little over a Moon away. It would give ample time to prepare, and if Byleth wanted to throw the party so soon, who was Dimitri to deny him?

He nodded, “Sounds perfect.”

Byleth graced him with a small smile, would he ever outgrow the butterflies swarming in his stomach whenever the man beamed at him? 

Dimitri watched Byleth fiddle through the blank parchment on the desk, muttering to himself as he thought aloud. After a couple minutes passed, Dimitri brought his attention back onto his own work.

He would write to Ingrid and see if any of her riders could fly south and do some basic land scouting. 

* * *

Dimitri found sparring helped with the pent up aggression he was experiencing as of late. Between being hounded near constantly by his advisors, worrying over Byleth’s health, and trying to maintain a professional air at all hours of the day… It grew overwhelming.

Dimitri couldn't be snapping at people for speaking to him when in a fowl mood. He couldn't yell at his advisors for being insensitive of his Beloved’s condition, and he couldn't cure Byleth no matter how much he longed to.

So, sparring helped keep him level.

Few had stayed behind, even Annette and Mercedes had to leave for their respective houses eventually. Dedue stayed, and often was his sparring partner. He was one of a precious few Dimitri could go all out against, and not fear of scaring or seriously hurting them. Not that he’d try to hurt people to begin with.

Dedue’s eyes left him for a moment, and he stole that opportunity to knock the man off balance. He grunted and fell onto his back with a heavy thump, Dimitri offered him a hand and glanced to see what had caught his friend’s attention.

He was surprised to see Byleth.

It took a fair bit of restraint not to immediately run to the man and sweep him off his feet, to cradle him and scold him for being reckless. Had he walked all the way to the training hall from his room? By _himself?_

Byleth hated to be coddled, Dimitri _knew_ that. Yet he couldn't walk too far without breaks, and still heeded help with stairs. The thought of the man struggling to overcome them by himself bothered Dimitri.

Something he had begun to realize was just _how_ proud Byleth was. Unless help was forced upon him, Byleth would never ask. Dimitri wasn't sure how to broach the topic, so he remained silent and helped how he could when he noticed him struggle.

“Good afternoon, Beloved,” Dimitri smiled, and pulled Dedue to his feet when he felt the rough hand in his own.

“Hello, Dimitri, Dedue.”

“What brings you down here?” He inquired, and prayed the man did not intend to train.

Byleth, instead, held up a piece of paper. Dimitri handed his spear to Dedue and accepted the document from him. It was a list of names. 

“What is this for?”

Byleth passed him and took the spear back from Dedue, the man seemed hesitant to give him a weapon, but relented all the same.

“The party, so you can change and add to the list of people.”

“Are these who you want to attend?” Dimitri inquired, and did a brief glance over the list. As expected, it was their friends, and no one else.

“Yes, there may be more you’d like to come,” Byleth explained, and examined the blunt edge of the training spear, he frowned at the weapon. Dimitri wondered what imperfection he found.

“Well, I figured you’d just invite who you wanted, and that’d be it.”

Byleth turned to him then, his head tilted just enough to convey his confusion, “Why? Is this not for you as well?”

“Well, I mean, kind of? It's more for the ‘family’, than anyone else.”

“You know people I do not, some you are close with, right?” Byleth dug the staff of the spear into the sand, “Would they not be invited?”

Dimitri rubbed the back of his neck, in truth, largely everyone he would have invited was on the list already. He might have considered inviting a few officials from the former Empire for courtesy’s sake, but that had less to do with the tradition, and more with his position of power. As he scanned through the list again, he noticed a name very absent from the list that bewildered him. 

Even Emile’s name was on the list, in parentheses beside Mercedes’, but there all the same.

And yet… 

“... Do you not want Lady Rhea to come?”

Something flashed in Byleth’s eyes, something _dangerous._ It was brief, but for a second, Dimitri could have sworn he saw Byleth’s eyes change to match those he had as a dragon. He blinked, and it was gone. 

“No.”

Dimitri nodded, he wouldn't question him. He suspected Byleth knew something that was far beyond what Dimitri could have known. If Byleth didn't trust her, Dimitri wouldn't either. 

Seteth and Flayn had been invited though.

Dimitri found it sweet that his own name was first on the list, then Dedue’s, followed by the rest of the lions and their friends. Indech and Macuil’s names were not on the list, though that was far less surprising, given Byleth didn't know them.

“Professor…”

Dedue’s voice brought his attention up from the paper, and to Byleth, where he was switching the lance Dimitri had been previously using, for a sword. 

He frowned, “Byleth don't hurt yourself, please. You are still recovering.”

Byleth’s shoulders sagged, just enough to be noticeable.

“I have been stuck in my room for a week, I am bored. The longer I stay stagnant, the harder it will be to regain my strength.”

“While you are right, I wouldn't go straight to training, much less sparring,” Dimitri bit his lip, “Perhaps start with building your ability to walk longer distances?”

“People are there.”

It was such a simple, unassuming sentence. Though Dimitri could understand exactly what he meant by such words. He folded the paper and tucked it into his pocket, then walked to Byleth’s side and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“... Are people disrespecting you?”

Byleth shook his head, through the grip on his sword tighetend, “They treat me as though I am glass. I cannot walk five steps without a monk, a servant, or even a knight, grabbing me and directing me to the nearest place to sit. I do _not_ like being touched by strangers.”

Dimitri’s brows furrowed, he wasn't sure what he’d be able to do, as he did not technically have much power in the monastery itself. He might be able to send out an order to leave Byleth alone, though he was unsure how that would be taken, much less if it would be heeded.

“Even if I wanted to start smaller, such as you suggest, I have no room to do so. If I am seen, I am forced to sit and rest, even when I do not need it. I am not a child, nor am I helpless.”

“Have you considered wearing your armor?” Dedue inquired, while he laid his shield and axe against the far wall.

“No, do you believe it would help?”

Ever since Byleth’s return, he had been wearing simple clothes. Stuff that was easy to get into by himself, and were gentle on his already irritated skin. Not evening clothes, necessarily, but a far cry from his general attire.

“Perhaps,” Dedue explained, “If they see you in armor, they may be less likely to disturb you. Perhaps they may associate your armor, or your Archbishop attire, with you being fully healed, regardless of if you are. That is only a possibility, I am unsure if it would work in practice.”

Byleth was silent while he undoubtedly mulled over the words, Dimitri wondered if trying to talk to Rhea would help with others being so overbearing.

Though Byleth's stern desire to not have Rhea attend the ransom flashed into his mind, perhaps Rhea was not a safe one to speak to. For now, at the very least. He could try and pass the word along himself, and see if that changed anything. Perhaps the mix of that and Byleth wearing his armor, could solve most of the issue at hand.

“I will see if I cannot get an order sent out to let you be,” Dimitri pressed a kiss to the top of his head, “Maybe that, along with the armor, could get people to leave you alone. At least for the most part.”

Byleth nodded and leant into his side, Dimitri adjusted his arm to make room for him, “Yes. We shall try that, I do not believe my patience will hold out much longer.”

Byleth was frankly the most patient man he knew. He was a bit morbidly curious to see what it would be like, if he were to actually snap at someone. The thought was pushed away, he would never wish such stress upon the man.

* * *

“Are you sure?”

Byleth nodded, he rolled up the scrolls he had already finished, placing them neatly into a bag to be given off to a courier later that evening.

“You’ve never met them,” Dimitri pointed out. 

He was not averse to inviting his uncle and cousins, far from it. Frankly, he probably would have been scolded were he not to invite them, but he had decided to let Byleth have full control of the guest list. It surprised him that Byeth actually wanted them to come.

“Yes, but they are your family,” Byleth pointed out, “Wouldn't they have been invited normally anyway?”

Dimitri hummed, Byleth had a point. In truth, Dimitri had barely seen his Uncle in the last couple months. Occasionally in passing, but even when Dimitri formally ascended to the throne, he never had the chance to sit down and talk to his uncle. He had no idea how the man had changed from what he remembered him as a child.

 _Did_ he change? Or was he the same quiet and kind man he remembered?

Would he like Byleth? Or would he frown upon their marriage, insisting he took a wife instead? 

He didn't know his cousins, were they good people? 

It dawned on Dimitri how little he kept in contact with his own family. He should rectify that, he decided. His Uncle had filled his shoes in the kingdom for years, before he was old enough to ascend the throne, and after he had… Been ill.

“Do you want them to come?” Byleth asked.

“I have not spoken to them in so long, I’ve never even met my cousins. I do not know they would come, if we did invite them. Much less what they are like.”

Dimitri continued, “I want to invite them, but I worry if they would be disrespectful.”

Byleth snorted, “If they _were_ to cause trouble, I do not believe our friends would sit idly by and watch.”

He chuckled, “Yes, I suppose you are right.”

“You write theirs,” Byleth grunted, and pulled another sheet of parchment from the blank pile between them. 

It was odd, working so casually in what once had been a place for tactics and war. But as a room on the second floor of the monastery, it was not as frequented as those in the lower levels. Dimitri watched as he started another letter, then returned to his own paperwork. He’d write to his uncle after he finished budgeting for Fódlan’s expenses. 

Doing an entire _continent's_ finances was more difficult than simply just a kingdom’s. He imagined it’d get easier as he grew to understand the average gold needed per nation, and just learned of the other territories in general. Until then though, Dimitri felt he would be going grey rather prematurely.

He was, _what,_ 24? 25? Maybe?

It felt as though he was easily sixty, on many days.

“Byleth, may I have your opinion on something?”

Byeth grunted.

“I received an inquiry today from a noble in the former Empire, asking if I would be changing the name of the territory. I do not particularly feel a need to, though should I? Would it further serve as a divide if their names remind the same?”

“I do not know,” Byleth stated after a moment of silence, “I believe that would be something better asked to the individual areas. If they want to change their name, then let them, if not, why bother?”

Dimitri considered it, after he finished the first draft of finances, and the letter to his uncle, he’d write a few nobles from each territory and ask for their opinions. Byleth was right, asking the people themselves would be more appropriate than just deciding on his own.

When the paperwork was finished between the two of them, some odd hours later, Byleth left to give the letters to the pegasus riders. Dimitri made a quick stop to their room to drop off documents he’d need to keep around for reference, then trotted down to the market to meet with Sylvain and Dedue.

“Y’know, it will be a bit difficult to have a party in the monastery without having Lady Rhea at least nearby, right?”

Dimitri shrugged, he still did not know Byleth’s reasoning for not inviting the woman. Perhaps it was over something simple, or perhaps Byleth did not feel safe around her. She had… Made him how he is, afterall. Dimitri would have definitely felt some sort of resentment towards her if he were in his Beloved’s position.

“It may be more of a statement, than actual desire for her to be away from him,” Dedue suggested, “They have been in the same room numerous times, and he does not appear uncomfortable.”

Sylvain shrugged, “Doesn't matter to me one way or another. Though Byleth doesn't strike me as the petty sort.”

“He can be petty,” Dimitri laughed, “Though I do not believe he is the sort to be such in a _malicious_ way, no. Still, he does not seem to wish to discuss the matter, so I have let it be.”

“Now I barely know shit on the matter, but isnt she responsible for making him a _fucking dr-_ ”

“ _Quiet,_ ” Dimiri hissed, Sylvain shut his mouth before any more of the sentence came out.

“Right, right.”

“... Though you are, at least in part, correct. The details of which are still lost even to me.”

Sylvain frowned and handed a small satchel of gold to the blacksmith, she accepted it with a nod, and took the blessed lance from him. There was a chip on the blade and some minor beveling. Nothing that’d take more than an hour or two to fix, but Sylvain wanted it taken care of before he left. Dimitri did not blame him.

Dimitri wondered where Sylvain had put his relic. Ever since they had learned the truth of them, Dimitri hadn't seen him with the lance since. He hadn't seen most of his friends with their relics since. To be fair, Dimitri had not used Itzel since they rescued Byleth himself. She remained in the room, storing her with other weapons seemed… Cruel.

Plus, it was not as if he and Byleth had done anything illicit since he returned, the man was exhausted as it was. Dimitri was absolutely not going to be responsible for Byleth overexerting himself. 

“You sure you don't want to come along?” Sylvain inquired as they wandered around the market while waiting for his lance to be repaired, “It might be… Taken better if you do.”

Dimitri gnawed the inside of his cheek, “You are right, but… No. I cannot, Byleth still needs me.”

“Does he?” Sylvain rose a brow, “Because I am pretty sure I saw him flying his overgrown lizard from the monastery like, an hour ago.”

He groaned and pulled a hand down his face, he should have known Byleth would have snuck out with Dagur as soon as he was able. The man was no prisoner here, but he wished Byleth would have at least _told_ him he was going flying. 

The state of his wings came to mind, the battered feathers and naked skin beneath. The blood that matted the joints where quills connected to bone had been torn from him… Dimitri couldn't imagine what it was like. Perhaps being in the air soothed what hurt that remained. 

“He can take care of himself,” Dedue stated, “Physically, at least. I do worry for his emotional state though.”

“Hm, fair enough,” Sylvain grunted, then furrowed his brows as he paid for some fruit, “... What of an heir?”

Dimitri snorted, a harsh, bitter sound, “A cousin can take over when I grow too old, I will _not_ be taking a concubine.”

Sylvain’s shoulders relaxed a bit, and he nodded, “Good.”

He wondered why Sylvain would have cared.

“I bet the courier will get to your Uncle before I even return to Fhirdiad, do you want me to follow up for a reservation if he does come?”

“He can write to me,” Dimitri stated, “Do not bother yourself with that. I’d only request you’d stand guard while the dowry is transported.”

“Of course, Felix will too. Pretty sure the ladies will tag along as well, if not as guard, then simply to arrive on time.”

The dowry was small for someone of his status, he knew. A king traditionally would present a dowry that could buy out an entire nation, Dimitri did not have that much to spend. Not when his people were struggling.

And, in truth, he knew it didn't matter to those receiving it. He probably could hand them a plate of food and they’d accept it without question. Dimitri was so, _so_ lucky to have such wonderful people in his life. 

He had taken that for granted in the past, he would not again.

Dimitri didn't see Byleth again until later that evening, when the man walked into their room. He jumped to his feet from the desk chair and rushed to his Love’s side. He had been so worried when he didn't come back for lunch, or even dinner. Byleth was never one to skip meals.

“Are you alright? Did anything happen?”

Byleth leant back enough to pull from Dimitri’s arms, but not move away fully, “I am fine, Dima.”

“You were gone all day,” He sighed, “I was worried.”

After a moment, Byleth nodded, “I will inform you next time.”

Dimitri didn't want there to be a _next_ time while he was still recovering, but he didn't speak that and only nodded. He hesitantly placed his hands on Byleth’s hips, giving the man plenty of space to express his discomfort. Instead, Byleth stepped toward him and wrapped his arms around him, coming to rest his hands between his shoulder blades. 

Dimitri melted into the hug. He buried his head in the crook of his love’s neck and sighed, “I _know_ you can take care of yourself, Byleth. I just… I fear I will lose you again.”

“... Would it ease your mind to come with the next time Dagur and I go out?”

Dimitri nodded into his shoulder, “Yes.”

“Very well, I shall tell you when we plan to leave again.”

“Thank you, Byleth.”

A soft kiss was pressed to his temple, and he tightened his arms around Byleth. It had been some time since he had been able to hold him like this, he always worried about aggravating an injury or smothering him. Perhaps he had been depriving Byleth of much needed contact as he had himself.

He murmured an apology into the black fabric of his cloak, Byleth did not respond, and instead brought a hand up to comb through his hair. The nails were gentle as they dragged along his scalp, comforting in a way Dimitri could not truly describe. He could remain like that for hours, he realized.

Byleth guided him back to the bed and had him lay down, he dressed down to his undershirt and pants, then crawled into the bed beside him. He brought Dimitri to his chest and resumed combing his sharp nails through his hair. Despite how easily he knew they could tear through flesh, they were so gentle as they glided along his hair and skin.

He wasn't sure why he was the one being comforted, Byleth was the one tortured. He had been the one to suffer, to be starved, mutilated, drugged, treated like nothing more than livestock. The memory of Byleth’s broken body on that altar, chained and gasping for breath through gurgles of blood… It was haunting. His fingers dug further into his sides, and drew in a deep breath.

Byleth’s cheek pressed against the top of his head, the weight was soothing. Byleth was here, with him. He was safe, he was recovering.

Dimitri buried his face further unto Byleth, taking in his scent and the way his chest moved with each breath he took. He was alive, he was safe.

They _both_ were.

* * *

After another grueling day with his advisors and endless amounts of paperwork, Dimitri was thankful to finally be able to return to the room he shared with Byleth. He trusted Byleth had not gone on another adventure, he knew his love would have kept his word, though he found it a bit odd when he pushed the door open to find the room empty. Perhaps he was getting a late night snack, or training whilst the grounds were empty.

Dimitri shrugged off his jacket and belt, tossing them both over the back of his chair. He considered slipping off his overshirt, but stopped before he started to unbutton it, he should at least check to be sure Byleth was alright before he settled in for the evening.

As he left the room and closed it behind him, voices from the balcony drew his attention. Dimitri’s hand went for the knife in his boot, but halted once his brain caught up to him. It was Lady Rhea’s voice.

He approached the sound, a bit wary, though as he reached the stone archway, he found Byleth and Rhea leaning against the railing. A surge of what might have been possessiveness (perhaps overprotection?) came over his body. Byleth’s reaction to inviting her to the gathering they would have in just a mere week rang loud in his mind. 

Yet there, the two seemed at ease. Casual, even.

“This may not stop, Byleth,” Rhea’s voice was quiet, somber in the light of the sun’s setting rays.

“You don't know that,” Byleth responded, curt, but not particularly irritated.

“I don't,” She admitted, “Not even I know the extent of who, or _what,_ you are anymore. For what it is worth, I am sorry.”

Byleth shrugged, “You did not orchestrate my capture.”

“No, but I am the reason you are the way you are.”

“I am alive,” Byleth grunted, “Even merely a vassal for Sothis, there are things, _people,_ here I love. I want to protect them.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Not in the slightest.”

Rhea chuckled, “That is fair. Think about what I’ve said, the time for you to return to our people may be soon.”

Byleth did not respond, Dimitri was quick to duck away before he was noticed. Suspicion and terror clawed at the back of his mind. He leant against the shut door at his back and stole a deep steadying breath. 

What did Rhea mean by that? Was Byleth in danger?

He massaged the sides of his head, it would not do any good to be suspicious or paranoid. He knew that. Byleth would tell him what she had said, or what the conversation was even about when he was ready. Dimitri trusted him, yet, the worry remained. 

_He is dying._

_He will not recover._

_He will have to leave, and you will_ **_never_ ** _see him again._

Dimitri sat on the foot of the bed and buried his face in his hands. He counted, and didn't look up until he heard the door click open, then ease shut.

Byleth stared at him, a familiar expression Dimitri knew to be surprise plastered openly on his face. In barely a couple steps, Byleth was standing between his knees, and had his face cradled in warm gloved hands. Dimitri covered them with his own, absently marveling at how small they were.

“What happened?”

“Nothing, I… I am fine,” Dimitri hesitated, then let out a heavy breath through his nose, “I heard you and Rhea speaking.”

Byleth nodded, “What did you hear?”

“I am not sure, she said you have to return to your people?”

Byleth frowned, and ran his thumb along his cheekbone, “Maybe… I am not sure. She believes I will not fully recover, as the drug they used to sap my magic away altered my connection to Sothis. In order to have a chance at recovering fully, I may need to go to the village and see their priestess.”

“What would they do?”

“I do not know,” Byleth admitted, “All I know is my recovery has been far slower than it should have been. I still cannot walk across the Monastery without stopping to rest.”

Dimitri knew Byleth’s recovery had been slow, yet he didn't imagine it had been too big of a deal. Perhaps he was simply recovering more as a human would, than a Nabatean. No human could just shrug off all that happened in just two months. 

Still, there was a lingering thought in his mind that wondered if Rhea was right. Would Byleth recover? Even if he did not, it would not sway Dimitri from his side. Though he knew his love would be miserable, were he not able to regain his original strength.

He hoped the way he brought Byleth close enough to press their lips against eachother’s communitacted what his words could not. Byleth’s hand pulled at his hair, and he swallowed a groan, his hands moved down to pull Byleth closer by the smooth curve of his rear. 

When his Beloved pulled back, his eyes were a ring of green in an ocean of black. Then, Byleth blinked and his pupils returned to their usual state. He pulled from Dimitri’s hands and instead darted to the side of the bed. Confused, Dimitri watched as Byleth pulled out a box from beneath the frame. 

While his face was largely neutral, the perk and slight quiver of his ears betrayed how excited he was for whatever lay within the box. He set it next to Dimitri on the bed and lifted the lid, inside were some strange looking straps and… A dick.

An artificial one, but one all the same. 

He glanced at Byleth, who stared at him with a grin, it was adorable. He looked so happy.

Dimitri was no fool, he had a pretty damn good idea what it was for, though was surprised by it all the same. Whatever reaction his face showed, must not have been what Byleth was hoping for, as his excited jitters settled into something more apprehensive.

He grabbed his hand, “I have to ask, where did you find this?”

“Dorothea,” He explained, and that was all Dimitri had to know. She likely was the one that had set him up with one, or at the very least given him the resources to do so himself. 

He chuckled, a swirling heat in his gut began to bubble, though it was pushed aside.

“I want…” Byleth’s hand tightened his grip on Dimitri’s, he seemed nervous, “I want to be the one making you feel good.”

“You always make me feel good Byleth,” He snorted, “Just being around you makes me happy.”

Byleth sat down, and moved the box to his lap, “Would it bother you to be penetrated… By me?”

There was an added weight to Byleth’s question. Dimitri couldn't understand what, but he knew the words meant more than a simple inquiry. As if Dimitri might see himself as lesser for taking a ‘submissive’ role between them.

Dimitri leant over and kissed Byleth’s jaw, “Of course not, I… Find the idea rather enticing.”

At those simple words, Byleth relaxed immediately. He nuzzled against Dimitri’s hair and let out a heavy puff of air, “I am glad.”

Byleth pulled the dick and straps from the box, and let the case fall to the floor. Dimitri hooked his chin on Byleth’s shoulder as he watched the man puzzle out how the thing was supposed to work. It was smaller than he was when erect, he wondered if Byleth knew they came in different sizes.

Still, it was by no means small, he realized as Byleth held it in hand. The thought of it entering him was as intimidating as it was arousing. Byleth set the dick on Dimitri’s lap, and started fiddling with the leather. It thumped against his stiff pants, the thing had some weight to it.

That probably would have hurt quite a bit if it hit his growing erection.

Byleth took the prosthetic (was that the word for it?) back when he seemed to figure out how everything fit together. 

Byleth set them aside and nudged Dimitri further up the bed, he was pliant in Byleth’s gentle hands. The leather gloves felt odd against his skin, but he didn't think he minded it. Dimitri’s head fell onto a pillow, and Byleth rocked back onto his heels, staring down at him as a predator did their prey.

“Do you want to do this?” Byleth inquired, this time, a genuine question. No deeper meaning, just him asking if he’d like to get fucked in the most _casual_ tone. 

“Yes,” He decided. 

Byleth nodded, and leant over him to grab the oil they kept in the nightstand. He nudged Dimitri’s legs apart and settled between his thighs. Byleth put the little glass jar aside and leant down to press a soft kiss to his jaw. Dimitri turned his head down to meet his lips, and brought his hands up to stroke along Byleth’s ribs.

He was a bit surprised when Byleth pulled his fingers away, and moved his arms to rest above his head. 

“This is about _you,_ ” Byleth stated, “No touching.”

Dimitri swallowed, but nodded. Byleth returned to his lips, then moved his mouth down to his neck. He could feel the point of his canine dig into his skin, not enough to break the flesh, despite how easily it could. Leathered hands worked at the buttons of his shirt, Byleth pushed the shirt open and drew back from his neck.

Byleth pulled the shirt, and undershirt, from his body and tossed it aside. His hands were gentle as they roamed over his chest and abdomen, the texture of the gloves felt strange and foriegn on his skin. Byleth leant down and kissed the scar on his shoulder, from where Edelgard had embedded the very dager he had gifted to her when they were children. 

His fingers ran down his sides to rest on his hips, while trailing his mouth further down. Peppering soft kisses over the scars that mangled his body. Dimitri groaned and covered his face with his arm, the intimacy of Byleth’s actions were almost too much. Treating him as though he were something special.

Byleth’s hand pulled his forearm from his eye, and huffed, “Are you alright?”

“I-I am. This is just, it is embarrassing.”

“What is?”

Dimitri didn't have the words to describe how Byleth’s tender reverence flooded the heat to his cheeks. Instead he settled on muttering, “You are treating me as a fair maiden.”

Byleth laughed, full on bellied laughter. Dimitri pushed himself on his elbows, his entire face burned, “What? Don't laugh, I'm _serious!_ ”

The man leant down and rested his cheek on Dimitri’s shoulder, “Is it wrong to be loved?”

“Well, no. I mean, you just…” Dimitri sighed and pulled Byleth with him as he flopped down onto his back, his Beloved upon his chest, “You are treating me so… Gentle.”

Byleth shifted and rested his chin on the points of his collarbone, “Yes? Why would I not?”

“It's overwhelming.”

He tilted his head, “Why?”

Dimitri didn't know.

Byleth stretched out on him, and cradled Dimitri’s jaw, turning it to meet his gaze, “Do you feel unworthy of kindness?”

His love could always see right through him, even when Dimitri struggled to understand himself. The answer must have been clear when he averted his eye from Byleth’s. He puffed out a smokey breath of air, white curled between them as the cloud rose and dissipated into the air above them. Dimitri had never seen him do that before. 

Was he angry?

Byleth’s fingers spread over his cheekbones, “Dima, I love you.”

He nodded.

“I am not the only one,” He stated, “You are so very loved by so many people.”

Dimitri nodded, his eyes burned.

Byleth melded his lips against Dimitri’s, soft and tender. He cupped Byleth’s face and pulled him closer still, savoring the soft sound he drew from Byleth when lapped into his parted mouth. He brought his hands down along Byleth’s sides and to his hips once more, pulling his body flush with a rough tug. 

Byleth snorted into the kiss and pulled back, his eyes lidded, “May I?”

Dimitri’s grip tightened on Byleth’s hips briefly, then, he released his love and nodded. Byleth rewarded him with a quick peck on his lips, then moved down his body once more. He undid the fastening to his pants, and pulled them down his legs. 

Byleth kissed the scar on his thigh, the result of a bandit attempting to avenge the comrades Dimitri had torn apart. Dimitri had crushed the man’s skull for trying. 

He propped himself back up on his elbows and watched as Byleth dragged his tongue down his inner thigh, over his hip bone, everywhere but where he desired his mouth the most. Even without any direct stimulation, Dimitri was nearly at full mast.

Dimitri bit his lip when Byleth slid his gloves off, and finally took him in hand. His thin scarred fingers did not reach fully around the shaft, though that did not deter him as he nipped at Dimitri’s hip while he slowly pumped his dick. It took at his restraint not to buck into the idle, teasing strokes. 

His patience must have pleased Byleth, as he smiled at Dimitri, then finally licked a wet stripe along the underside of his cock. The moan pulled from his lips was sinful. Byleth popped the head into his mouth, deft tongue swirling around the head. Dimitri couldn't keep himself up any longer and collapsed onto his back with another moan.

Dimitri didn't realize he had started to buck into Byleth’s mouth until he felt hands keep his hips flush against the sheets. The grip was not forceful, yet the gentle warning felt beneath Byleth’s nails was exhilarating. He could have tested his love’s patience if he wanted, but Byleth was already treating him so perfectly, Dimitri tried to keep himself from moving.

Byleth pulled off his cock with a wet pop, and licked his lips. Dimitri shuddered beneath his gaze.

He pushed Dimitri’s legs further apart, and retrieved the vial of oil. After pulling the cork off, he wet his fingers with the stuff, then resealed it. Dimitri watched in morbid fascination as Byleth rubbed his fingers together, the oil glistening on Byleth’s pale skin.

Byleth adjusted his own position, and Dimitri noticed how most of his weight had been shifted to one side, likely to keep pressure off his bad knee. He wanted nothing more than to lift Byleth up to ease his pain, though the moment his hands so much as twitched toward him, he was met with narrowed eyes. 

Dimitri kept his hands to himself.

There was a gentle pushing sensation, as Byleth slid a finger into him. It didn't hurt, though he could understand what Byleth meant by it feeling odd. The man used his other hand to continue stroking Dimitri’s dick.

Byleth’s bright green eyes did not leave Dimitri’s face for even a moment, his gaze overwhelmingly intense. After a moment, a second finger was added. There was a bit of a burn, but nothing painful as Byleth worked the fingers in and out. He could feel them move inside of him, stretching him for what was to come. 

Dimitri fisted the pillow behind his head and sucked in a sharp breath when Byleth’s fingers passed over his prostate. Byleth froze, and when he met his gaze, Dimiyri nodded, “I’m fine, that was… _Good._ ”

Byleth relaxed and continued scissoring him open, he lowered his mouth to Dimitri’s aching cock. Dimitri bit his lip when Byleth passed over his prostate again, with the added ecstasy of Byleth sucking on the head, the feeling was nothing short of incredible.

Another finger was added, the burn was a bit more, but still far from unbearable. Dimitri found it hard to focus on anything but his pleasure. He could feel the seams of the pillow tear, though he couldn't bring himself to care.

The pace of the fingers picked up, each press inside him was pushed directly against his prostate, Dimitri swallowed back a moan. If Byleth kept this up he’d-

The pleasure left him so fast he saw stars. He groaned and felt every muscle in his body tense at the sudden stop. He had been so close, he needed to finish, he couldn't-

Byleth soothed him with a gentle kiss to his neck, “It's alright,” He assured.

Dimitri swallowed and nodded, turning his head to capture Byleth’s soft lips with his own. The burning panic left him, and he relaxed. His Beloved pulled back too soon, though as he watched him lazily from the corner of his eye, he could see Byleth sliding the leather onto his hips. 

Dimitri’s toes curled.

When Byleth settled between his legs again, he lifted Dimitri’s ankle up to rest on his shoulder. He could feel the hard tip of the prosthetic dig into his thigh. Feeling it so close, it was intimidating. He wondered if Byleth had felt the same, when they first has sex together.

Byleth pressed a kiss to his calf, and hiked up his leg so his knee hung over his shoulder instead. He coated his dick in oil, then positioned Dimitri to lay a bit more on his side. Byleth’s fingers were gentle, yet firm as he guided Dimitri to lay as he wanted, he was putty in the man’s hands.

“Comfortable?” Byleth inquired, and stole a teasing nip to Dimitri’s leg.

He moaned at the sensation, ripped from him as Byleth pressed the flat of his tongue over the bite.

“Y-yes,” Dimitri breathed.

Byleth anchored himself in place, and guided his dick to press against his ass. The tip slipped in almost embarrassingly easy. His head fell back with a pleasured sigh, while Byleth pushed further into him. He felt as though he could feel Byleth in his gut, when the man’s hips were finally flush against his own. 

Byleth rubbed Dimitri’s hips, and the part of his abdomen he could reach in their position, the soft touches burned as if flames licked his skin. 

“You can move, I’m ready” Dimitri breathed, his fingers itched to pull Byleth close, though he kept his hands where Byleth had placed them.

“I will move when I _decide_ you're ready,” Byleth stated.

He brought his hand down to stroke his dick again, Dimitri bit back a wanton moan. He tried to arch his back to press even further against Byleth’s hips, but a firm hand pushed him back down. Dimitri wondered if Byleth got off on seeing him squirm.

Finally, after what had felt like hours, Byleth’s hips pulled back, then snapped forward. Dimitri bit his lip, it was incredible. The man continued to thrust into him, changing his angle until Dimitri yelped and saw stars. 

Byleth grinned at him, Dimitri had _never_ seen such a predatory look in his Beloved’s eyes. It was… Very, _very_ attractive. Byleth kept the angle the same and continued to assault his prostate, pumping his cock in time with the thrusts. Dimitri wasn't going to last.

Each time he bottomed out a moan was torn from his throat. Dimitri couldn't help himself and brought a hand down to grab Byleth’s hip. It was allowed, though he received a sharp nip to his thigh as punishment.

“Byleth, my love, B-Beloved, I am close, I-”

Byleth moved a hand from his leg to intertwine the fingers of the one that bruised his hip, “Cum for me, Dimitri.”

As one could only do, when given a command from a God, Dimitri was helpless to follow what was requested of his body. Ecstasy hammered through his gut, he spilled his seed over Byleth’s hand and ribs.

Dimitri groaned, breaths came in labored pants as he body came down from the high. Byleth pulled from him, and rubbed his thighs, letting his body relax to a more natural position. 

“That… Was incredible.”

Byleth chuckled and crawled up his chest to kiss him. Dimitri opened his mouth eagerly to the man. When Byleth pulled back, Dimimitri grunted at the loss of contact.

“Let me take this off,” Byleth kissed his cheek and slid from the bed.

Dimitri rolled onto his side to watch his love struggle to get out of the leather straps. It was mean, but he couldn't help the laugh that escaped him when Byleth’s ankle got caught in one of the loops and he nearly fell.

“Quiet,” Byleth snapped, though there was no actual heat behind his words. 

With the prosthetic off and tossed to the side, Byleth climbed back into bed beside him.

“You ok?”

Dimitri nodded, “More than okay, that was fantastic.”

Byleth nodded, he seemed happy.

Though, Dimitri wondered, “Did you finish?”

Byleth waved his question off, and Dimitri knew the answer. He rolled onto his back and grabbed Byleth’s hips, pulling them to his mouth. Byleth yelped and braced his hands against the headboard. He scowled down at Dimitri.

“Dima, you do not have to, I am content making you feel good.”

Dimitri’s grip tightened on him, “Please, Byleth, let me. I _want_ to.”

Green eyes stared down at him, then his stiff arms relaxed, “Very well.”

Byleth stroked a hand over Dimitri’s forehead, brushing the damp bangs from his eye. Dimitri jumped at the permission and adjusted Byleth for him to better reach. He dove in like a man possessed. 

Dimitri licked into his love’s heat, savoring each soft breath he got in return. Byleth was already wet, so it made sucking his cock into his mouth all the easier. The thighs supporting himself on either side of Dimitri’s head quivered, and Byleth’s back arched with a delectable moan.

He brought his hands further around Byleth’s hips, and used his fingers to spread him open, allowing his tongue to reach further within. One hand supported on the headboard, the other gripped Dimitri’s hair. Dimitri pulled his teeth along the small swell of Byleth’s dick, and was rewarded with the sweetest sound.

Byleth cried out his bliss as he finished, and Dimitri licked him through it.

The gentle tugs on his hair were enough for him to lift Byleth from his face and set him upon his chest instead. 

Byleth stroked his hand along Dimitri’s cheekbone, his gaze soft as he stared down at him.

Dimitri intertwined their fingers and leant into the touch, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Dima.”

* * *

It had been a long time since Dimitri had seen the reception hall decorated in such a way. In fact, as far as he could recall, the last time it had been decorated was over six years ago, when they had attended the ball as mere students. It brought back a lot of memories, some good, some sad to look back upon now.

He remembered finding Byleth sneaking from the ballroom, then finding him in the Goddess Tower. It was a simpler time then, he recalled. A part of him longed for it, to be the naive prince he had once been. To see Edelgard and feel joy when she was happy, even if she did not acknowledge him past what was courteous.

Dimitri wondered if she had remembered him then. As many questions he had, though, there would never be an answer. He was pulled from his idle thoughts by a young woman with blond hair approaching him.

“Hello, your Majesty,” She curtsied, not a single hair from her bun fell out of place.

“Good evening, ah, forgive my rudeness, but may I ask for your name?”

The woman smiled, “It is not rude at all, I am Angelica Blaiddyd.”

“Oh! Oh, forgive me, I should have recognized you,” Dimitri rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed for not realizing his own _cousin_ had approached him.

Angelica chuckled, “How could you? We have never met, afterall.”

She was not wrong, but still. Dimitri felt he probably should have been able to put two and two together. He held out a hand to her, and she accepted it with another graceful bow. 

“I am honored you thought to invite us, your Majesty, this is a very special occasion indeed.”

Dimitri snorted, “Please, we are family. You can call me Dimitri.”

She nodded, “Very well, Dimitri. Still, thank you for inviting us. It seems to be such a select gathering, very few are in attendance.”

“Yes, my Beloved is uncomfortable among strangers, so we kept it mostly to those he considers family.”

“Understandable,” Angelica hummed, “How did you decide who to invite?”

“Byleth decided, actually.”

“Your intended?”

“Yes,” Dimitri nodded, “I know it is unusual, but, we are unusual, I suppose. Ah, and before you ask, he requested your father, you, and your siblings to come.”

“He sounds very generous,” She absently brushed some nonexistent dust from her blue gown, “Have you met any, ah, resistance? From your advisors.”

Dimitri eyed her, unsure why she asked. He decided honesty was best, and nodded, “Yes. None I cannot handle, but there is much debate over heirs and my remaining here as he recovers from his imprisonment.”

“I see, father had been apprehensive of your marriage to him.”

“Oh?” He asked, and frankly, dreaded her response. Did his uncle not approve? 

It wouldn't matter, he knew, yet a part of him longed for the approval of the only blood he had left. He knew even if the man found their marriage distasteful, Dimitri would be left alone. He had the lions, their friends, his _family,_ they were as much of his as they were Byleth’s.

“He worried your advisors would have bullied you into accepting a queen instead.”

That had not been the answer he was expecting. His shock must have shown on his face, as Angelica laughed, “Do you think so poorly of my father?”

“No, no. I just-”

“Do not worry Dimitri, it is fine. I can understand your worry,” A soft smile rested upon her mouth, “But you should know my father is happy you found someone you love, and did not settle for a political marriage.”

Relief flooded Dimitri, “Thank you, that means quite a lot. Where is your father? I have not seen him yet.”

Angelica shrugged, “I am not sure, he largely vanished when we arrived. To be frank, he probably is looking for your intended, uh, Byleth? Was it?”

“Yes,” Dimitri chuckled, “I am curious to see what he makes of him, it surely will be an interesting meeting.”

“Oh?”

“Byleth is the best man I have ever met, mind you, but he takes some getting used to. He can be quite unnerving sometimes.”

“Really? I can not say I’ve ever heard one describe their intended as unnerving.”

Dimitri laughed, “ _I_ do not find him so. He is kind, intelligent, and I adore him with my whole heart. He is simply eccentric, and has lived a hard life. It can show when he is faced with strangers.”

She nodded, seemingly understanding what he had meant. 

Their conversation met its natural end, more or less. Dimitri had so many questions for her, he wasn't even sure where to start. Was she married? How old was she? How many siblings did she have? Was the family doing well?

He did not get his chance to ask, as before he spoke Claude approached him and threw an arm around his shoulder. Dimitri grunted when his back was forced into an odd angle to meet his friend’s height.

“Hey your Kingliness, been a bit, yeah?”

“I see you rather frequently for a man that lives across the border,” Dimitri snorted, then, “How are you, my friend?”

“Quite well! I checked in with Byleth, and imagine this, I met your _Uncle._ ”

“Ah, so father found him,” Angelica hummed.

Claude’s eyes snapped to her, then to Dimitri. Understanding lit his face, “You must be one of his daughters?”

“Angelica,” She curtsied.

“Claude,” He responded with his usual smile, then tugged on Dimitri’s shoulders, “So when is this supposed to start? Never been to a Fhaerghus ceremony before.”

“When the sun sets,” Dimitri explained, “Then I shall bribe you all for Byleth’s hand.”

“So what, like a play sort of deal?”

“More or less,” Dimitri chuckled, “It is more theatrical than it was back then.”

Claude shrugged, and finally released Dimitri, he straightened and cracked his back.

“Well, I am going to harass Byleth some more, I look forward to learning why a mutual friend of ours was getting into a _dress._ ”

Dimitri wondered who the lions decided to play the decoy.

* * *

As night descended, the theatrics began.

Dimitri made a show of bringing his initial dowry. Necklaces and rings of gold and sapphire, strung together with only the finest threads. The guests played up the adoration of the fine crafts, though not one left from their position initially, they had formed something of a wall of people, beyond which he knew Byleth was.

Mercedes and Dorothea stepped up first, examining the fine jewelry.

“Hm, only jewelry? You must think quite poorly of our Byleth,” Mercedes chastised, “I was expecting at _least_ a pile of gold and a cow.”

“I mean,” Dorothea held up one of the necklaces, “They're nice and all, but are they _Byleth_ nice? Absolutely not.”

Dimitri had a book brought in. One that had been in his family’s vaults for generations, perhaps. The book was old, the leather cover had been inladen with gold and precious stones, within it, held knowledge of healing magic few knew even existed. Legend said it dated back to when the Goddess herself walked the earth, and some of the spells were written by her own hand.

Dimitri did not know how accurate it was, but given how Mercedes' eyes widened when he held the book out to her, she knew what it was.

“D-Dimitri, wait, I couldn't-”

“Please,” Dimitri took her hand and placed the Goddess’ Tome in her open palm, “You would make great use of this knowledge to help those in need. I cannot think of anyone better to entrust this to.”

Tears welled in her eyes and she all but collapsed in his arms, Dimitri held her, awkwardly, and soothed her shaking frame. 

“You aren't supposed to get us _actual_ gifts,” She chided between subdued sniffles, “How can I _not_ give you my blessing after this?”

“That's the idea,” Dimitri chuckled, she pulled back and nudged his arm playfully.

“Thank you, Dimitri.”

“Of course.”

“You better not have gotten us all stupidly thoughtful gifts,” Dorothea frowned, “I did not come in makeup I can cry in, Dimitri.”

“Well,” Dimitri gestured for a wooden case with gold locks to be brought next. He handed the carved wood to her, and she accepted it with furrowed brows.

When she set the case on a nearby table, and opened the locks, she revealed a hand-painted domra. It was an old instrument, yet had been meticulously cared for by the generations before him. Dorothea was hard to decide a gift for, as he knew riches meant nothing to her, and giving her a songbook seemed too predictable.

So, he gave her something to play alongside her voice.

“I… Wow. This is beautiful Dimitri,” Her delicate fingers traced over the strings, “I have no idea how to play this.”

“I figured, I have the names of a couple musicians from Fhirdiad that’d be happy to travel to Enbarr and teach you.”

Dorothea laughed, her eyes were glossy, though no tears fell, “At this point I’d skip straight to just handing Byleth over, you’re _horrible._ ”

He rubbed her back, “I am glad you like it.”

Each time a person stepped up, Dimitri had something prepared for them. 

Felix got an urumi sword, the handle detailed with silver gryphon heads. Annette got the axe her father once wielded when he was her age, and a recipe book. Ingrid was given ownership of the royal pegasus stables and a new saddle. Ashe had been given the remaining funds he’d need to open his restaurant, then cried.

Dimitri was so happy to see his friend enjoying what he had picked out for them. Some had been harder to decide than others, but in the end, he liked to think he did good. 

It was clear Sylvain was supposed to play the role of the decoy, given how he was dressed in an elegant gown with a veil. Yet even he stated he could skip the ransom and just ‘fucking take him’. 

He had gotten a silver ring with blue and red precious stones embedded in it. A gift, meant to be given away. Sylvain seemed to understand, as he grabbed Dimitri’s shoulder in a firm hold and smiled a watery grin, “Thank you.”

Then, Dedue.

His was perhaps the gift he was most nervous about. Upon going through the vault, and tallying what was had, he had found a disturbing amount of things that did not belong to his people. When he approached his friend, he pulled a folded sheet of paper from his breast pocket, and handed it to him.

Dedue’s brows furrowed and he unfolded it, the paper contained a list. A list of every single Duscur item stolen from his people. He did not know what dated to before the tragedy, or what had been taken during the massacre. Regardless, they belonged to Dedue now.

“I… Didn't bring the actual items, I feared some of them would have been in danger of getting stolen. When you return to Fhirdiad, they will be prepared for you to do as you see fit with.”

Dedue did not speak, instead brought him into a tight hug. He grunted at the force, though returned it with no holds barred. 

“Thank you, my friend.”

“Of course.”

Seteth was given the remaining relics Dimitri could find in the treasury. Flayn got a new fishing rod and tackle box.

“You are a good man, Dimitri,” Seteth stated, “I am happy to welcome you to our family, as disjointed as it is.”

He chuckled, “I am grateful you trust me to be a part of it.”

Seteth grabbed his hand and adjusted the grip so their palms pressed against each other, “For what it is worth, Jeralt would have been _damn_ proud to call you his son.”

Dimitri choked out a wet laugh, “That means a lot, thank you.”

He was reunited with Byleth. The man wore an elegant suit, some mixture of what he imagined to have been traditional wear for the monastery, and perhaps Nabateans. His pale hair had been tied into a ponytail at the base of his neck, usually unkempt bangs slicked back to show his face. A flower wreath covered his pointed ears.

He was beautiful. But then again, Byleth always was.

Dimitri took Byleth’s hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, then, the festivities began in full form. He had been given the chance to catch up with his Uncle, who embraced and congratulated him. 

Byleth proceeded to drink everyone under the table.

Seteth told him human ale was nothing compared to what his people brewed.

By the time the festivities had ended, the sun was beginning to crest the horizon, painting the sky in orange and pink. He shouldered open the door and closed it behind him and his Beloved. Byleth kicked off his shoes and fell face-first into the sheets, Dimitri laughed.

“Tired, Love?”

“Mhm.”

He rolled the man onto his back and untied the ribbon from his hair, letting the locks fan out beneath him. Dimitri dressed him down to his underclothes, then undressed himself. By the time he had settled down beside Byleth, he was already snoring.

Dimitri chuckled and brushed the hair from his eyes, he placed a gentle kiss to his forehead and pulled the blanket up over their bodies. Byleth’s snores deepened to a purr, and after intertwining their fingers, sleep came easy to him.

“I love you, Byleth."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heCK yeah got that ransom done, now the lads are free to marry at their leisure. Look at them, bein in love. I am so proud.
> 
> That said, the climax of the story is fast approaching, I am so so excited to write it. Hope you all are looking forward to it too, and I am curious to see what you all think will happen!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and let me know if ya liked it!
> 
> Also, come hang with me on my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/vulturepops) where i scream about fire emblem, a lot.


	19. Those who Remain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shadow passed overhead, Flayn’s white scales glittered in the light, she angled her wings to tilt her body and look down at him, bearing a wide toothy grin. 
> 
> _“Welcome to Nabatea,”_ She trilled.

“Are you sure?”

“I feel fine Dima,” Byleth nodded.

Dimitri was still hesitant to leave Byleth alone at the training grounds. He seemed to have been improving, as far as Dimitri could tell, but still. He worried without someone keeping an eye on Byleth, the man would end up pushing himself too far and get hurt. 

“Dedue, are you needed at the meeting?” Byleth tried, to which his friend nodded.

“Unfortunately, this is one of the few I must attend. We will be discussing sending the carpenters from Enbarr to Duscur, and how best for them to travel.”

Byleth leant on his sword and nodded, “Good, I am pleased to hear there is progress.”

Dimitri offered to take him back to the grounds when the meeting was over, but Byleth brushed him off, “No. I will likely be too tired later.”

Byleth pursed his lips, then stood straight, “If I get Seteth to supervise, will that be a good compromise.”

“Yes,” Dimitri agreed. So long as he wasn't alone if something were to happen, Dimitri would be able to rest far easier.

He seemed happier with that, and sheathed his sword. As Byleth passed Dimitri, he butted his head against his arm and hummed, “Good luck.”

Dimitri stopped him from walking too far with a gentle tug of his hand, and brought him close to steal a quick kiss, “Thank you, I fear I may need it.”

He let Byleth go then, and watched him trot from the training hall. He wondered if Seteth was busy with anything, though figured even if he were, Byleth would drag him to supervise anyway. Dimitri knew he was being overbearing, but he worried the one time Byleth was left alone, the one time he pushed himself just a bit too far… Would be the one time he’d actually need help.

“I shall change into more appropriate attire,” He informed Dedue, “I’ll meet you in the tactics room.”

“Very well.”

* * *

“Their transport would depend on where they are getting the supplies,” Dimitri stated, “Should they be hauling from further south, then yes, they will need several carriages. That said, to save gold, and to do our proper dues, they should get supplies from Faerghus, then travel to Duscur.”

“They’ll need to take a boat,” Iriana pointed out, “If we seek to get this finished swiftly, have them flown north on pegasus carts, then they can mount up on horses to travel to the docs. It would be faster than taking the shoreline back around.”

Dimitri considered it. It would be faster, but also significantly more expensive. While he would be happy to fund the project to completion, it was the least he could do, he worried if he was careless with gold the people would suffer. That said, the harsh bite of winter would very soon be rearing its head, he wanted the survivors of the massacre to have proper roofs over their heads before the snow came.

He frowned at the map, then turned to Dedue, “What do you think?”

“Flying them over the longer stretch of land would be wise, then simply taking carriages around the water to the peninsula would suffice. Hauling stone and wood on and off a ship would be extra labor that could otherwise be avoided.”

Dimitri nodded, it was a good middle ground and would be sure they arrived swiftly with the needed supplies. He wrote down the orders to be sent to Enbarr, and Fhirdiad. If Ingrid was not busy, he’d have her lead the calvary to pick up the construction workers. Plus she had far more experience with the inner workings of pegasus carriages than he did, and would know better how to split them up, much less how many would need to be brought.

With the letters drafted, he passed them to Irina, who’d go over and refine his word. She had quickly become his most trusted advisor, she had been trusted by his father, so it was only right he rewarded her the same respect.

With the main bulk of the meeting taken care of, Dimitri accepted the various letters from people around the country that had concerns or questions only he could answer. He flipped through the scrolls, as far as he could tell at a glance nothing was pressing at the time, though he did take note of responses from the pegasus riders he had sent scouting for land south. 

He popped those open first and unfurled the scrolls to read. A lot of the southern lands were damaged, though there were some untouched plots of land that looked to still be fertile. Unfortunately, they laid within some densely wooded areas, and the time it would take to clear them out into proper fields would be too long before winter hit. Though, Enbarr did have a more mild cold, perhaps their winters could be worked through?

He took note of the locations on a seperate piece of paper, and would forward them onto the farmers. They would know better than he if they could be viable locations for farms.

A knock on the door drew his attention from the paperwork scattered before him, “Come in.”

He was certainly not expecting Flayn to peek her head in, nor was he expecting her eyes to be bloodshot and red, as if she had been crying. Terror coiled in his gut and he stood immediately, Dedue at his side. 

“Flayn, what is wrong?”

“Um,” She glanced at the other members within the room, and worried her lip between her teeth, “Can you come talk, uh, in private?”

Dimitri nodded, “Meeting dismissed, I will finish this later tonight, Irina, please be sure the messages to Fhirdiad and Enbarr are set for delivery no later than tomorrow night.”

“It will be done, Your Majesty.”

He wasted no more time leaving the room, Dedue followed behind. Flayn did not seem to mind his presence, she grabbed Dimitri’s hand and led him away from the tactics room, to the stairs. 

They were heading to the third floor.

“Flayn, what happened?”

“Byleth relapsed.”

“He what?” Dimitri froze, Flayn continued to tug on his arm, but he couldn't move. 

He relapsed? Had he fainted? Did his condition worsen? Thousands of worries and questions assaulted his mind, he covered his face with a hand and counted to regain his senses.

“Come on, Fa- _Brother_ took him upstairs.”

Dimitri allowed himself to be pulled along. She let him and Dedue into the bedroom, where the other Nabateans had already gathered. Macuil knelt beside Byleth’s bedside, Byleth himself had been tucked into the bed. What happened?

Macuil glanced up when Flayn closed the door behind her, his eyes darted between him and Dedue, then settled on Seteth.

“They are both aware,” He assured, his voice strained, but it was enough for the man to nod and continue doing whatever he was doing with Byleth. 

His hands hovered on either side of his neck, glowing a faint green-gold color. Luminescent markings traveled up his arms and beneath his sleeves, Dimitri wondered what he was doing. He had never seen a healer do that before.

“He is dying,” Macuil stood and shook the magic from his hands, “Something is sapping away his lifeforce, and it will kill him.”

“How is that possible?” Rhea questioned, her brows furrowed, “We destroyed all the relics we found, other than the lance and shield. Could any have escaped us?”

“Even if there _were_ relics being used, they wouldn't affect him like this, he still has his creststone,” Seteth pointed out, “Could it be whatever they drugged him with?”

“I did not detect any abnormal substances in his blood,” Macuil frowned, “It may be possible, but it’s very unlikely.”

“So something else, then,” Rhea gnawed on her lower lip.

“What happened?” Dimitri asked.

“Byleth dragged me from work to keep an eye on him while he trained,” Seteth explained, “One moment he was perfectly fine, the next, he collapsed and wasn't able to breathe. He is breathing now, and more or less lucid, but if he has another episode like this, in his current state… I fear we will not be able to heal him in time.”

Dimitri sucked in a sharp breath, but forced himself to remain calm. Panicking now would not help anyone, least of all his Beloved. He made his way to the other side of where Macuil stood beside the bed, and sat down. To his surprise, Byleth’s head turned at the action, and stared at him through half-lidded eyes. 

Dimitri held out his hand, and Byleth took it within his own shaky joints.

“There was severe internal damage,” Macuil explained, “As though he is being eaten from the inside out. However I detected no abnormalities in his blood, nor any sign of sickness or parasites.”

Indech spoke, this time more to Rhea, than anyone else, “Is Byleth Nabatean, truely?”

“His mother was.”

“ _Was_ she?” Indech challenged.

“She was created from my own flesh and blood, so yes, she was.”

“How then, did she have a child by a human?”

Rhea did not have an answer to that. Did Nabateans struggle with fertility? Or could humans simply not impregnate one? Dimitri had several questions, though doubted any would be answered if he asked.

“No human could hold the power of Sothis within them, not while she lived,” Indech frowned, “Could… That be what is happening?”

“No, he has carried her within him since he was a babe, why would he now suffer the effects?”

“The drug?” Seteth suggested, “You had confided you worried whatever they shoved into him to keep him complacent might have altered his connection. If that is the case, could things now be unbalanced?”

“He could still maintain his true form, no human can turn into a dragon.”

“Manaketes can.”

“They are an entirely different species,” Rhea snorted, “And they are not truly human either.”

“You said he coughed up blood,” Indech turned to Seteth, “What color?”

“Red, but that is usual for him. Even as a dragon his blood ran red.”

Indech scratched the side of his chin and frowned, “That's not normal, Rhea.”

“I know.”

Dimitri was quick to support Byleth’s back when the man pushed up on shaky arms. Byleth relaxed when Dimitri had him propped up with pillows and his own arm.

“I feel better now,” He reasoned, “Let us drop it, so I can get some sleep.”

“Byleth you cannot ignore this,” Seteth hissed, “If another episode happens again, you will not survive.”

Byleth frowned, though he didn't respond further. Dimitri tightened his grip on him, and Byleth leant into the touch.

“We have to take him to the village, there is no other option,” Rhea decided.

“There are plenty of other options,” Byleth groused, though was left unheeded whilst the others discussed when and how would be the best way to take him.

Dimitri rubbed his shoulder, drawn between doing what was likely best for Byleth, and standing up for his wishes. 

He sighed, and knocked his cheek against Byleth’s head, “Do you want to go?”

Byleth’s mouth pressed into a thin line, “No.”

“Why?”

“I do not like what may come of it.”

Dimitri didn't know what to make of that, it unsettled him, the way Byleth’s eyes left his own to stare at the foot of the bed. 

He drew in a heavy breath, then inquired, “Is there anything else that can be done? Other than going to the village?”

Seteth’s eyes snapped to him like a viper, but Dimitri did not waver his gaze. 

Seteth’s narrowed gaze darted between him and Byleth, then something soft came over his features and he sighed, “I fear there may not be. Byleth, we will not hail you as a god there, you need help, and Nabateans may be the only ones that can help you.”

“They will know what he is,” Macuil stated, “Anyone with any sort of a nose could smell her on him. He carries her heart, do not forget.”

“Yes, but he is his _own_ person.”

Macuil tilted his head, then glanced at Byleth. Dimitri drew him close, the way the man looked at him was disgusting. Like nothing more than a slab of meat to be led to slaughter.

“Is he? He only lives because of Mother, if she bores of being a ghost, could she not simply take back what is hers?”

Seteth bared his teeth at Macuil, “Do not speak of him as that, Byleth is not a vassal, he had no say in his birth.”

“No, but one does not always decide what their fates are. He is living on borrowed time. You know that as well as I,” Macuil turned to Seteth, “Would it not be kinder to put him out of his misery than let him suffer until his body gives out?”

The way he felt Byleth shrink against him at those words infuriated him. Dimitri gently lifted his arm from around Byleth’s shoulders and eased him back onto the pillows, then stood from the bed.

“Get out,” He hissed, “ _Get out,_ right now.”

Macuil recoiled, surprised perhaps, but the shock quickly shifted to anger. He closed the distance between them, standing toe-to-toe, “You dare tell me what to do, human?”

“Yes, I do. Leave, before I _make_ you leave.”

Macuil snorted, “You couldn't.”

“I can, and I will, do not test me.”

His nose scrunched in disgust, “What, angry I said your little toy isn't doin’ so well?”

Dimitri exhaled sharply and counted. He wouldn't lose his temper again, he couldn't. Dimitri promised he’d do better, he couldn't break that now.

“Macuil! Enough,” Indech grabbed Macuil’s arm in a firm grip and pulled him back, “It is not like that, stop this nonsense. You are being cruel and foolish.”

Macuil tried to pull his arm from his brother’s grip to no avail, he puffed out a dark breath of smoke, “How would you know? You don't know any more about them than I do, you are just soft on humans. You always have been.”

Indech opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Seteth, “Indech, don't. Do not bring that up.”

Macuil pulled again though Indech’s grip held firm, he bared his teeth, long canines glinted in the afternoon sun, “You wouldn't dare.”

Indech’s thick brows furrowed, but instead of whatever he was going to say, he settled on, “I trust him, Macuil. He’s _Namirlín._ ”

Macuil froze, his eyes widened and shot to Dimitri. He was unsure what that phrase was, but it seemed to surprise even Seteth. 

“You did _what?_ ” Macuil spat, “After all they have done, after what his blood has done, you’d willingly give…”

“He is not responsible for the crimes of his ancestors,” Indech bit, “He did not even know what happened, Seiros kept the truth hidden from them all!”

Macuil seemed to have settled down enough for Indech to allow him to break free of his hold. The Nabatean scoffed and left the room without further trouble. Dimitri had half a mind to knock his ass down the stairs, but he refrained, and instead returned to Byleth’s side. 

Byleth did not react, and that worried Dimitri.

“Ignore what he’s said,” Indech spoke, “He… Is very angry, and has never allowed himself to grieve what happened to him. It does not excuse his behavior, but do not believe his words, Byleth.”

Byleth started at Indech, then turned his head to look out the window, no words spoken. Dimitri’s chest hurt, seeing his Beloved so… Defeated. 

“You are more than what he says, Byleth,” Dimitri turned his head to face him, “You are so much more.”

Byleth nodded, and Dimitri brought him to his chest in a hug. He brushed his fingers through Byleth’s hair as the man curled into his chest, his nails digging into his sides to pull him closer still. 

“Indech…” Seteth spoke, “Is what you said true? Is Dimitri _Namirlín?_ ”

“Yes.”

“That was foolish,” Seteth sighed, though did not appear wholly upset by whatever they were referring to. 

Indech shrugged, “Perhaps, but as I said, I trust him. I see no reason to not have, when we would have before.”

“Times have changed, Indech,” Rhea murmured, “But we needed any strength we could get for that fight, I do not fault you for the decision.”

“What happened?” Dimitri finally asked, “I… Do not understand, what is _Namirlín?”_

“It translates more or less to, ‘My Blood’, in your language,” Indech explained, “Do you remember the blessing, before we rescued Byleth?”

“Yes, to honor death, you explained that to me.”

“Part of that was the exchange of blood,” His brows furrowed, “When a human and Nabatean exchange blood, the human gains the Nabatean’s crest. Before the war, before all of this, Nabteans would give their blood to humans they trusted or saw as family, and would become _Namirlín,_ or, their blood.”

“Impossible,” Dimitri blurted, “Anyone who bears two crests have their lives are significantly shortened, they-”

“Artificially imbued crests, yes,” Seteth spoke, “A crest forced upon another is different than one given with consent. Humans could theoretically have many crests, if they had gained the trust of enough Nabateans. Some back then did.”

Dimitri glanced down at his hand, confused, he felt no different than before. Did he truly have another crest?

“What of those _born_ with two crests? They are not artificial.”

“Crests were never meant to be hereditary,” Seteth frowned, “What the humans did then was drink the blood, consuming so much of it that it became interwoven with their beings. It no longer was an exchange of power or friendship, the act had soured and warped into a vile thing. That is reflected as such, when someone bears more than one.”

Dimitri did not know what to make of that knowledge, and instead just deflated against Byleth. He felt his small hands wrap around his back and cling to his jacket, Dimitri kissed the top of his head, he hoped the act was soothing.

“That aside,” Rhea bit her lip, “We must get Byleth to the village, it is the only way I see of him surviving.”

Dimitri didn't trust her, so he turned to Seteth, who seemed hesitant, but nodded his agreement, “Yes, if nothing else, they may serve as a start to heal Byleth.”

Dimitri nodded, “I will come.”

Indech laughed, “Will you now?”

“Yes,” Dimitri snorted, “I care not what others may think of my presence, I need to be there for Byleth. I mean no harm to anyone, I will not speak a word of where it is hidden, never in my life.”

Seteth huffed, “I doubt you will take no for an answer, I would rather have you come with us, than try to do something foolish.”

“Is that truly wise?” Rhea inquired, “He… May upset some.”

“Perhaps, but we are there for _Byleth’s_ health, I do not doubt he would feel more comfortable if his mate were to come with.”

Rhea did not seem convinced, but relented and nodded anyway. 

“Dedue, I trust current matters to you in my absence.”

“Understood.”

* * *

Dimitri couldn't say he was fond of the aspect of flying.

Early morning brought a sharp chill, even to Garreg Mach, as the seasons began to shift. Far from truly cold, but enough for Dimitri to wear a light jacket. His cloak was stuffed away in the bags they all had packed, clothing, food, and weapons should they need them, had been safely stored and strapped away on their various mounts.

Indech had been vague as to where they were flying to, only that it wasn't the village. Dimitri was frustrated they did not go straight there, but he trusted most of them enough to acquiesce. Dagur seemed pleased to be out of her stable and geared up for proper flight though.

She chuffed and butted her head against his arm, and Dimitri absently rubbed between her horns. A charming little trill sounded from the back of her throat.

Dimitri wondered if Byleth could make that sound too.

“Byleth, you do not need to wear that. It will not be cold there,” Seteth trudged after a very irate Byleth, clad in the cloak Dimitri had crafted for him.

The sight warmed his heart.

Byleth ignored him, instead he limped to Dagur’s side and ran his hands over the ridges of her spine. The wyvern bowed into the touch and leaned closer for Byleth to reach more of her scales. Dimitri was glad Byleth could move without constant support again, but he knew the recovery was temporary. 

If they did not find a cure to whatever ailed Byleth… Dimitri refused to entertain the thought.

“You will overheat in that,” Seteth came to a stop beside him and crossed his arms over his chest. 

Byleth flipped the hood up and Dimitri barely managed to suppress his laughter. The man threw his hands up in exasperation, and left Byleth’s side to help the others finish gearing up. Once Seteth was thoroughly distracted, Byleth pulled the hood back down.

“Been bothering you?” Dimitri inquired.

“Yes, he is hovering worse than father ever had.”

Dimitri smiled a bit at that, though didn't speak more on the matter. Instead he gestured to Dagur’s saddle, it was decided he’d ride with Byleth. Indech had offered to let Dimitri ride with him, but Byleth had been vehemently against it. He didn't trust Indech, it seemed. 

Not that he could blame Byleth, in truth. Dimitri would have been damn suspicious if their roles had been reversed. It worked out anyway, Dimitri would have wanted to fly with Byleth regardless.

Byleth moved his hand from the wyvern’s ridge, then to the belts on her saddle. The movements were practiced, as he adjusted each leather strap. 

“You get on her first.”

Dimitri hesitated, he stepped closer and Dagur turned her head to stare at him. She didn't _seem_ bothered, but Dimitri knew nothing of wyvern body language.

“Mount her like you would a horse, one foot in the sturrup, swing the other around. Don't be afraid.”

Easier said than done, he realized. He grabbed the edge of the saddle and slipped his boot into the loop, then swung his leg over. Dagur puffed out a breath at the weight, and craned her head back to watch him, but made no other movements. Dagur was wide, he could feel the incredible muscles coiled in her shoulders and back with each shift she made, every breath she took.

He had always known wyverns to be powerful beasts, yet he never felt the strength of them before. Akin to riding on a horse for the first time, the might of the animal was only fully understood when so close. 

Dagur turned her head from Dimitri and nosed at Byleth’s open palm.

Only fully understood when one had their trust.

Byleth’s eyes softened when Dimitri met them, “You look happy.”

“I… Was a bit worried she would be upset with my presence.”

Byleth chuckled, “Of course not, she loves you, just as I.”

“Everyone packed?” Rhea called from upon her own wyvern, “We must depart before the sun fully rises.”

Byleth grunted and hefted himself onto Dagur’s back, wrapping the reins around his small hands. Dimitri hesitantly placed his hands on Byleth’s hips, to which he was adjusted to wrap his arms fully around his stomach, “You’ll want to hold on tighter than that,” Byleth explained.

Dimitri nodded, and adjusted his hands to a more comfortable, but secure, position around his Beloved’s stomach and ribs. Dagur stood at some unseen command from Byleth, and stretched her wings out. Her weight shifted back and forth, and her head craned back to stare at him and Byleth again. 

He wondered if she was confused by his presence. 

Byleth held out an open palm, and she snorted into it, her nostrils flaring and lipping at the offered digits. She seemed satisfied after gumming Byleth’s fingers, then trotted to where Byleth urged her to stand beside Seteth’s and Rhea’s wyverns.

Flayn trotted up on her pegasus, Indech and Macuil shared another wyvern.

Rhea craned her head to the sky, “Should weather be favorable, we will be there before the sun crests noon.”

With that, there was an explosion of power and they took off.

Dimitri’s clawed at Byleth’s shirt for better purchase at the sudden force rushing through them as Dagur’s wings beat against the wind and brought them high above the monastery. Air whistled past his ears as Dagur’s wings caught the breeze and leveled out, the thin membranes of her wings catching each gust to carry them high above the ground.

He felt more than heard Byleth’s laughter, and Dimitri tightened his grip on instinct, whilst he buried his face into the back of Byleth’s hood. The sound of air was deafening, how could someone _fight_ upon one the back of a wyvern like this?

A warm hand intertwined his fingers with Dimitri’s. He felt Byleth shift on the saddle, and he pulled back just enough to see his love’s wide smile. It was breathtaking. 

_He_ was breathtaking.

His pale hair swirled around him like a storm, strands of green whipped around his head. He looked ethereal, at home, within the sky.

Byleth nodded to the side, and Dimitri followed the motion with great care, worried if he moved too fast he’d slip right off the saddle. A forest was beneath them, he could see the shine of the stream that cut through it. Further north, rolling fields painted the horizon blue in the mist of early morning.

Clouds rolled beneath them, dancing along the grass.

He had never been this high up before, it was as incredible as it was terrifying. Dimitri could understand how one could get used to such a view.

“It's beautiful,” He said, though the words were stolen by the wind.

Byleth squeezed his hand, and Dimitri wondered if he heard him anyway.

They settled into an easy pace, villages passed beneath their wings, forests flown over as nothing more than a cluster of bushes. So little and almost insignificant in the air so far above them.

Seteth motioned something with his hand, and Byleth squeezed Dimitri’s. They turned, and took a sharp decline into a dense wood. The air swirled past them fast enough to steal Dimitri’s breath away by the time they were on solid ground again. Everything spun, and he elected to remain on Dagur’s back, even as Byleth slid off.

Byleth rested a hand on his leg, it was a grounding presence that helped soothe the nausea at the sudden change in altitude. His ears popped.

“We will rest here long enough to eat, then make way to the village proper.”

Dimitri drew in a breath and let it out, lifting his head to peer at Rhea, “Why did we not just go straight there?”

She stared at him with a bemused expression, then started taking the saddle from her wyvern’s back, “A wyvern will not fly where we need to go, even they have limits.”

“What do you mean?”

“The village,” Seteth explained, following his sister’s lead in removing his wyvern’s gear, “Is very, very high up. No wyvern would ever fly that far of their own accord, it becomes uncomfortable for them, and largely unbearable for their riders. It is hard to breath, and very windy.”

Byleth’s grip tightened on Dimitri’s leg, “Will he be safe?”

Seteth scoffed, “As though I would have agreed to allow him to come if he would not be. Yes, the ride will be very uncomfortable for a time, and there's a chance he may pass out from lack of oxygen, however, once we are within the village’s borders, he will be just fine.”

That was not entirely comforting, but he wouldn't back down now. 

Byleth on the other hand, was already mounting Dagur again, “We’re going back.”

Dimitri squeezed his hips, “Byleth, we need to go. I’ll be fine.”

“I am not keen on you passing out,” He rumbled.

“I will be fine, you trust Seteth, right?”

Byleth shifted in the saddle, but deflated just enough to convey his answer. He sighed, but nodded, “Yes.”

“Alright, then trust I will be fine. Some momentary discomfort will not be the end of me Byleth, I promise.”

After a heavy pause, Byleth nodded again and slid from Dagur’s saddle, this time Dimitri followed suit. His legs were a bit wobbly now that he stood on solid ground again, but Byleth and Indech caught him before his legs gave out. It was horribly embarrassing.

Was this how Byleth felt? Once righted, Byleth released him and went to work on removing his wyvern’s saddle and reigns. He stacked them in a pile with the others, and retrieved some cream from his bag.

He smeared the off-white substance along where the straps of Dagur’s saddle laid. Byleth must have sensed Dimitri’s curiosity, and explained, “Dagur gets saddle burn sometimes after long flights. This ointment soothes the itching.”

“I see.”

“With the added weight, I want to make sure if she develops any sores, the cream will care for them.”

Byleth handed the jar to Dimitri, and used his arm to lift up Dagur’s wing. The wyvern huffed at the movement, but remained still as he ducked beneath her frame to smear the lotion over the harder to reach areas. Dimitri remained where he stood as Byleth finished caring for Dagur, and helped him get out from beneath her wing when he outstretched a hand.

They ate, and repacked their items.

As they got prepared, a question sprung into his mind, “If we will not take the wyverns, how will we get there?”

The group stared at him, as though he had asked some horrifically stupid question. Seteth eventually spoke, his voice bordering condescending, “Dimitri, we are _dragons._ We can fly.”

“Ah, right.”

Though he did not see any saddles that would have fit their sizes, he wondered how the hell he was supposed to come with. Much less Byleth, who he doubted was well enough to fly himself yet, given the man could barely walk. Rhea answered the unspoken question as she pulled rope from one of the many bags they had packed. 

“I’ll carry Dimitri,” Indech offered, “Seteth you’ll carry Byleth?”

Seteth considered it, then nodded, “Alright. Flayn, will you fly or ride on me?”

“I’ll fly!”

Dimitri understood better why they had made such a stop on their way. Byleth nudged him further from the group as they transformed, the heat swirling in the air was stifling. Magic pricked his skin and rose the hair on his arms. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before.

By the time the spots of light left his vision, only he and Byleth stood as humans before the group of dragons. Byleth swooped down to gather the remaining bags they would need in his arms, Dimitri took some, and brought them to a massive white dragon. Smaller than Byleth, but easily the largest of the siblings. 

Rhea’s form sparked unpleasant memories, though Dimitri pushed them aside when she lent her head down. Dimitri tied the bags around her shoulders with lines of rope, Byleth tested the strength, and when he seemed pleased, took the remainder of the ropes to Indech.

He crouched down and from beneath his shell, emerged two almost fin-like wings. Byleth used the wings to get onto the back of his shell, Dimitri followed close behind, in case he lost his footing. He dumped the ropes onto the shell, and tied anchoring points to the spikes, and around his neck.

“I think that’ll do it.”

Byleth gestured for Dimitri to step over, and the man had him sit and largely tied him to the shell. He could barely move, though if he did find himself fainting, he supposed that’d be for the best. What an embarrassing way to meet his end, sliding off the back of a dragon.

“Byleth,” He reached out and grabbed Byleth’s trembling hand, “I’ll be alright, I promise.”

Byleth huffed, though his words seemed to soothe him, “Alright, hold on tight.”

When Byleth secured himself to Seteth, the group took off.

Riding on the back of Indech was a wildly different feeling than riding upon Dagur’s back. He held the ropes securing him to Indech’s shell with all he was, despite being firmly tied in place, he did not feel up to testing fate. 

It was incredible, despite the terror he felt being so far above the earth. Indech’s wings were massive so close, and each beat of them against the wind was as though thunder clapped around his entire body.

Dimitri felt as he was in the mountains again, his breaths came in short gasps, the air around him was cold enough to see the air he exhaled curl before him. He remembered being a child and panicking when he struggled to breath at the peak of a mountain his father had taken him to. He remembered his father laughing at him, and reminding him to take slow, even breaths. 

He remembered watching the sun rise from the peak of that mountain.

Water hit his face as Indech dove into a cloud, the cold droplets sticking to his clothes and his hair while they dove between cloud after cloud. Dimitri grew lightheaded.

Lights danced in his vision, spotty colors swirled before his eye, pinks and purples merged and clashed against each other. Interrupted by flashes of white or deep blue. He was overcome with exhaustion. 

Then, after what had to have been hours, he could breathe again. Dimitri rubbed his eye, and upon taking several deep breaths, he took in the sight before him. 

Was he dreaming?

The islands before him floated in the air, connected by bridges, the centermost land containing an entire city at its center. Water fell from around the center island, where aqueducts transported the water to the various smaller islands, all inhabited with small villages or plots of land.

A shadow passed overhead, Flayn’s white scales glittered in the light, she angled her wings to tilt her body and look down at him, bearing a wide toothy grin. 

_“Welcome to Nabatea,”_ She trilled.

Dimitri strained his neck to watch her dive down and fly alongside her father, the fins alongside either side of her tail spread as she balanced herself to a glide. He could see Byleth from where he sat just behind Seteth’s head, he wondered what was going through his mind at the sight.

Dimitri for one, was in utter awe.

He felt the pull of gravity as Indech tilted forward to the main island, following after Rhea and his other siblings while they angled themselves to land. Dark shapes flew above them, other Nabateans flying from the center island blotted out the light as they passed above. Colors of all sorts surrounded them. Pinks, blues, golds, whites, browns, every color Dimitri could imagine, a Nabatean sported scales to match.

Yet even as they passed him, Dimitri wondered how many there actually were. When they grew closer to the city, Dimitri found the actual area of residence did not seem any bigger than Enbarr. 

Just enough to fill a capital, was that all that remained of their people?

Landing platforms stretched out from the main island supported by clay, stone, and roots sprouting from the plant life inhabiting the island. Rhea landed first, and stepped off, followed by Flayn and Seteth, Macuil, then finally he and Indech.

The platforms led to clay brick paths that curled into massive buildings. Seteth let Byleth down, who climbed onto Indech’s shell to help untie Dimitri from the spikes. 

“You feel ok?” Byleth inquired, soft and nervous.

Once he was free enough to help, Dimitri placed a hand on his shoulder, “I am fine, Byleth.”

Dimitri pulled the ropes off the shell with him, and Flayn guided Dimitri and Byleth to stand off from the path while they disappeared into the buildings. Before he thought to ask what they were doing, Rhea appeared in her humanoid form, and dressed. 

Ah, that made sense.

Byleth pulled his hood up, and pressed against Dimitri’s arm. 

A pair of Nabateans passed them, and froze upon seeing Dimitri. Mouths left ajar, the two were quick to scurry away, the panic in their eyes worried Dimitri. Did they truly believe he would hurt them? It was then, he realized, just how much he stood out among them. 

Blond hair and rounded ears, he must have looked positively forign. Rhea did not seem to be bothered as she took her place beside him and busied her hands by tying her long green locks into a ponytail at the base of her neck.

“When the others are dressed, we will take you to the inner sanctum where the matriarch lives. She will be able to assess what is wrong with you.”

Byleth grunted, and grabbed Dimitri’s hand. 

Dimitri squeezed it back, “Will… My presence here causes unrest?”

“Yes,” Rhea stated, “However you will be escorted by myself and my siblings. They will know you are no real threat from our trust alone.”

“Are… You well known here?”

Rhea laughed, “My siblings and I are more or less what you’d consider heirs in your land. Macuil and Indech have not been here for quite some time, but Seteth and I do try to make regular visits. Sothis was our mother, do not forget.”

Dimitri’s brows furrowed, if they were heirs, what was Byleth? His Beloved’s hand tightened in his own, and he feared Byleth wondered that too. He gave a gentle squeeze back, just as the rest of them filed from the massive buildings.

Their clothes were different from ones they wore at the monastery, the fabric shimmered in the light, akin to silk and hung from their bodies in loose flowing shapes. Shades of blue and black made up most of the fabrics, with lines of gold along the hems. The garb was beautiful, and only served to make him stand out even more.

With the group of them gathered and prepared, they started the journey toward the center of the city. Towering white arches led to the entrance, green moss hung from the curve of clay bricks in small rivers of green. Despite being so high in the air, the abundance of plant life was remarkable. 

As though the very ground they walked upon was the utmost of fertile soils, flowers and ferns Dimitri had never seen before curled from the ground in plooms of color. 

The closer they got to the center, the more crowded it became. Akin to a market in Fhirdiad, the streets were busy with various Nabateans peddling their wares, though all fell silent as they passed. Dimitri tightened his hand in Byleth’s, unsure if they stared at him, or Byleth.

It helped, he imagined, having Rhea and Seteth stand on either side of them. Familiar faces must have soothed their concerns or confusion. 

Even still, Dimitri watched a woman pick up a young child in her arms, and dart up a ladder that led to one of many homes above them. The city was vertical, homes and shops alike he imagined were built up from the ground, thin bridges of rope connected them and served as walkways for those in the higher levels. 

People gathered on bridges above to stare down at them, a heavy silence fell over the city. As if they all waited for the other shoe to drop, for Dimitri to pose a threat. Or perhaps they sensed Byleth’s connection to Sothis. He couldn't be sure, but he kept his eye on Indech’s back, as he led them further through the streets.

In the center was a tan obelisk, with glowing green runes. It towered above all the buildings surrounding it, casting a sharp shadow over the city from where the sun hit the structure. Rhea stepped from his side and brought her hand near the base of the towering clay, the runes flashed briefly, then disappeared when the ground beneath them trembled. 

Stairs collapsed in on themselves and formed a path down into the core of the floating island. An eerie green light shone from it’s depths, Byleth’s grip on Dimitri’s hand was bordering on painful. He didn't comment, instead he followed Rhea as she descended down the steep steps. 

The further down they went, the warmer it became. 

By the time Dimitri stepped onto solid ground again, it was as if he had traveled to an entirely different continent. The air was warm and humid, towering trees and mist covered the entirety of the inner chamber. There were buildings there as well, but looked different from the ones above. They were constructed to better weather the humid air, and looked as though to be sculpted from green stone. They were beautiful. 

“This way,” Rhea spoke, and she took over the lead of their group. 

Inside the island was smaller, and far less Nabateans about. Those that were hovering around all looked to be of a similar class. Long hair tied behind them in various hairstyles, their clothes, unlike those topside were white, with little to no embellishments. Simple draping gowns hung loose from their shoulders, they reminded him of what he figured Rhea’s dress looked like when she acted as Archbishop, beneath the cloak she had donned.

There was a blue glowing pond in the center, massive spires of crystal sprouted up from the water, glistening as though they were still wet. Perhaps in the humidity, the surface remained damp. Between the crystals, in the middle of the lake itself, sat a single building. It was huge, partially submerged within water, yet the building did not seem to be in any state of disrepair. 

Rhea knelt down by the lakeside and upon touching the bank, platforms rose from the water to the center. It reminded him of the ones Seteth had summoned when they had visited Indech’s temple.

They crossed the lake without any trouble, the steps disappearing as Rhea left them.

She brushed aside a curtain, and gestured for the group to head inside. 

There was a sphere in the middle of the building’s main room. It shone pearlescent, yet did not seem to be kept afloat by anything other than it’s own power. The orb pulsed with light briefly as Byleth passed it, Dimitri pulled him closer, and they entered the far room.

“Ah, there you are,” A wary voice met them, “I had expected you to come sooner.”

In the room, sitting on a pile of sheets, blankets, pillows, and other sorts of bedding material was a woman, a very, very old woman. Her tan skin was wrinkled and saggy, though the gold eyes that shone through were piercing. She brushed a lock of pale green hair from her face, the action drew Dimitri’s attention to the rest of her hair. It was long, enough to be braided and curled around her several times. 

It reminded him of a story he had been told a long time ago, of a young lady throwing her hair down from a tower.

“Matriarch Laranni,” Rhea bowed, “It has been some time, yes.”

The others in the group bowed as well, even Flayn. Dimitri hesitantly followed suit, though Byleth made no move to yield. 

“I had not been referring to you, my dear,” She chuckled, “But our new face here. Tell me, carrier of the Goddess, what is your name?”

Byleth’s eyes narrowed, but he did not speak. 

“His name is-” Rhea tried to answer in the man’s stead, but the Matriarch held up a hand and stopped her before she could blather out the rest of the sentence.

“I was asking him, Seiros.”

More silence.

The woman did not seem bothered, and instead smiled, “I see, fret not young one, I do not seek you nor your kin harm. It is rude of me to expect an introduction without first supplying my own. I am Laranni, the current Matriarch of the Nabatean people. Those you have passed on your journey to this place are all that remain of the Nabateans, the rest have been killed or simply lost to time.”

Laranni pulled a staff from beneath one of the blankets, and used it to support herself as she stood, “After so long, I do not imagine you have returned without reason.”

Byleth’s ears flipped back, and Laranni laughed, “I see I do not understand the situation, please, enlighten me.”

“Byleth,” He stated, curt and simple, “My name is Byleth.”

She nodded, then turned to Dimitri. He felt Byleth tug on his arm in an attempt to push him behind his back. It was a rather pointless endeavor, especially given Laranni could plainly see him stand behind Byleth’s lithe frame.

“I do not wish any harm upon your friend,” She assured, he could feel the way Byleth bristled. The woman tilted her head, then amended with, “Ah, I do not wish harm upon your mate, then.”

Byleth was still on guard, Dimitri could feel it, but he no longer seemed as defensive. Dimitri rested his hand on his shoulder, and after a tense beat, the man relaxed a bit more.

“So, what brings you here, Byleth?”

“I am ill,” He stated.

She nodded, and hobbled closer. Byleth stepped back until his shoulders were flush with Dimitri’s chest. Laranni did not approach any further, instead turned to Rhea, “Do we know the cause of his illness?”

“He was… Captured by the likes of Nemesis and his lackeys. They drugged him, among other heinous acts, and he had not been recovering properly. He had a relapse yesterday that nearly killed him.”

Larani nodded, and turned her attention back to Byleth, “I see. Take off your clothes for me, dear, let me get a look at you.”

Byleth’s bristling was back in full force, his entire back pushed against Dimitri’s chest. Laranni tilted her head, and glanced at Rhea, who in turn frowned, then explained, “He was raised among humans, he is… Not comfortable with what many of our kind see as normal.”

“Very well, then you four,” She gestured to Seteth and the others that had hung back a bit further from them, “Please leave the room to allow us some privacy.”

They did so, Laranni addressed Byleth then, “Better?”

He did not respond.

“Hm, would you be more comfortable if the human left?”

“No, he stays.”

She nodded, “Very well, I must get a look at you to determine the cause of your suffering, little one, I promise I shall not harm you.”

After a heavy beat of silence, Byleth stepped from Dimitri and started shucking off the cloak he had kept on him the entire trip. He handed it back to Dimitri, then started with his boots, shirt, pants, then finally undergarments. Handing each article to Dimitri as he undressed.

Then, he stood bare before the woman and Rhea. Dimitri wanted nothing more than to cover Byleth with his cloak again and usher him from the room, Byleth looked so wildly uncomfortable.

Laranni clicked closer with her staff, and brought a hand out to rest on his ribcage. Her fingers could easily settle in the valleys between Byleth’s exposed ribs. Had he lost even _more_ weight? Guilt clawed at Dimitri’s gut for not noticing sooner.

“You have been sick for quite some time,” Laranni frowned, her brows pinched together, “How long since your capture?”

“Couple months.”

“That… Is odd. Your body, from what I can feel,” Magic seeped into the pores of Byleth’s skin, crawling along his side in waves of gold, “You have been ill _far_ longer than that.”

The Matriarch took his hand and flipped his palm upward, she rested her own above it, “You have scars.”

“Yes.”

Laranni tilted her head, “It is very rare for our people to scar, largely thanks to our regenerative capabilities. With few exceptions such a major trauma, yet… Your body is littered with them.”

Byleth did not respond.

Blue scales crawled up her hand as she pulled a talon across Byleth’s palm. He did not react other than his ears splaying back. Red blood bubbled up from the thin cut, something that caused the elder to furrow her brows further. 

Her hand pressed over the wound, and she brought it to her lips, a forked tongue took the blood into her mouth. After a moment, she healed the cut then brought her hand over his heart, and the scar that had been left as evidence of what Rhea had done.

“... You are not Nabatean.”

Byleth’s shoulders sagged a bit, Dimitri couldn't tell if it was relief or sadness.

“Of course he is, he can-”

Rhea was cut off again by a hand raised by the Matriarch, “He is not, but, he is not human either. I have never come across someone like you before, Byleth. Did I not know any better, I’d say you could be a halfling.”

Dimitri shot a glance at Rhea, who sucked her lower lip between her teeth, that seemed to catch Laranni’s attention as well.

“What do you know?”

“He is… A special case.”

“Enlighten me.”

Rhea frowned and averted her eyes to the ground, “His mother was… A descendant of mine, who grew pregnant by a human man. Byleth was the result of their mating.”

Laranni snorted, “Impossible, no human could impregnate our kind. Even if by some miracle she did carry a child, without a shell to protect him, he would have been stillborn, or died minutes upon being born.”

Byleth turned his head to face Rhea, Dimitri couldn't blame the look on his face.

“You knew.”

Rhea did not move her gaze from the ground.

“You _knew_ I would have been born dead,” Byleth’s tone dropped to a snarl.

Laranni raised a brow, and strode to Rhea, “I see there are things you have come to know, that not even I do.”

“His mother was a creation of mine, a vassal, if you will. She carried my mother’s heart within her.”

“You tried to bring our _Goddess_ back to life?”

“Yes… But it did not work. Sitri was her own being, and Mother was not awake within her. She was largely unaware of what she was, and fell in love with a human man. They wed and had a child together, Byleth was the child.”

“How can he live?”

“He was… Stillborn, his mother had me take Sothis’ heart from her, and place it within Byleth, so that he could live. In doing so, it awoke Sothis. She lived within him as he grew. I was… Not able to be by his side when he was a babe, his father had taken him and disappeared. We were not reunited until many years later, when fate had brought us back together.”

Dimitri’s skin crawled. When he had met Byleth, when the man had saved his life. They had all but dragged Byleth and his father to the monastery, they couldn't have known… And yet, Dimitri felt angry at himself for being the inevitable cause of what happened to Byleth after. 

He didn't deserve to go through any of what he did.

Matriarch Laranni frowned, and brought Byleth’s hand back up, their palms pressed together. Gold flowed between their arms, then, the magic stopped and she pulled away.

“You made him a _chimera._ He is not Nabatean, nor is he human. He has been ill for a long time. His body is eating itself from the inside out. He’s not built to house our magic, and cannot contain the power of Sothis’ soul within him. It is killing him, and he will suffer a short, unfortunately pained, life from this.”

Rhea twisted her hands together, “So, as long as a human might?”

Laranni scoffed, and Rhea was quick to advert her eyes again, “No. If he is lucky, he has perhaps another five or so years. Months, should fate be unkind to him. Even without what he had gone through, he would not have lived more than perhaps twenty years.”

Dimitri’s blood ran cold. 

That wasn't possible, Byleth couldn't be so ill as to die in just a few short years. He… He refused to even consider that to be true.

Dimitri didn't realize he had dropped Byleth’s clothes until he heard them thump onto the stone at his feet. He couldn't be without Byleth, not again, not for the _rest of his life._ He needed him. Without Byleth he… He was nothing. Byleth kept him steady, kept him level.

He covered his mouth with a hand, the leather tasted bitter on his tongue.

He felt warmth when small hands grabbed his wrists, pulling them away from where he had begun to curl in on himself. Dimitri closed his eyes and counted.

“I… See,” Rhea’s voice was soft, perhaps guilty. Yet all Dimitri felt was anger, anger at someone who fucked around with things she didn't understand, and forced such an incredible man to suffer for it. Hell, she forced Byleth’s parents to suffer too.

Had his mother known Byleth would have been born dead? Or was she ignorant?

Dimitri pulled from Byleth and picked his cloak up from the floor, and wrapped it around his shoulders, pulling it closed with the antler clasp. Byleth didn't react, though Dimitri would not have expected him to. 

“There is a way,” Laranni continued, now turned to address Byleth, “To extend your life, and ease your suffering. Through a ritual, you may be able to release a part of yourself to become whole properly. You are two halves of separate beings.”

Byleth did not face her, instead he sought out Dimitri’s hands again, he offered them without a word.

“The ritual would allow you to become fully human, or fully Nabatean,” She spoke, he saw Byleth’s eyes move to follow the woman when she returned to the mound of blankets and sheets.

“The Nabatean people are dying. I am among the last with the strength to keep our island afloat, and it is draining me. Soon, one of the Goddess children will have to take my place, but like I, they will be drained of their life too. When they are lost to time, our island will fall, and our people will die,” Laranni hummed, “Yet, you, as a bearer of the Goddess’ heart, should you become Nabatean, you will have the strength to keep our people alive furthermore. The heart will not drain you, as it is a part of you.”

Rhea’s eyes lit up, “So then if we complete the ritual, Byleth will become Sothis?”

“He will gain her strength,” Laranni clarified, “And by extension, her magic and connection to the heart.”

“How may we go about the ritual?” Rhea inquired, “For him to become one of us fully?”

Dimitri helped Byleth get back into his clothes while the other two spoke.

Did Byleth not want to be a human?

Dimitri pushed the horribly selfish thought from his mind. Lives were at stake, and as he had sworn, he would be by Byleth’s side for as long as the man allowed it. Even so, a selfish part of him fantasized about Byleth being human like him, being able to grow old together, retire together if peace allowed it.

He wondered, were he given a choice, would Byleth have chosen to become human?

Dimitri brushed a stray strand of hair from his face, and frowned when the eyes that met him were stormy, conflicted. They decided for him. Byleth had no say, did he?

Seteth, Macuil, Indech, and Flayn, returned to the room at Rhea’s call. 

“Byleth is dying, but we can save him, and restore him to the power of his birthright,” She declared, Byleth’s grip on Dimitri’s wrists tightened.

This wasn't right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man oh man, we are goin places now! 
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed the chapter! And of course thank you so so much for the comments, they genuinely make my day and I love reading them!
> 
> And if you feeling spicy, come follow my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/vulturepops) where I cry over fictional characters


	20. The Unfortunate Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don't want to lose who I am.”
> 
> Dimitri didn't know what to say to that. He pressed their foreheads together, and wiped away the tears threatening to fall with his thumb. Byleth was trying so hard to hold his emotions back, his whole body shook with the weight of what he felt. He brought Byleth close again to his chest and rubbed his back.

“In order to perform the ritual, in his case, it must be done where the Goddess was buried.”

“The Holy Tomb?”

Matriarch Laranni nodded, “It is traditional for such a rite to be done under the new moon, though is not required for the process to go smoothly-”

Dimitri watched Byleth leave the room with a frown, the others either did not notice, or did not find it necessary for Byleth to be present. He tried to think better of them, and just presume they didn't notice him leave.

He followed after his love.

Byleth stood beneath the floating gem, the Heart, he imagined. It shone with brilliant radiance as Byleth stood there, gazing up at it with a practiced neutral expression. Dimitri approached him, but did not dare get too close to the thing. He did not wish to irritate it, if it even  _ was _ something that could feel.

“I can hear things,” Byleth spoke, his voice soft and small, “When I stand here.”

“What sorts of things?”

“Memories, I think,” Byleth’s brows furrowed, “Sothis’ memories.”

Dimitri wanted to go closer and bring Byleth into his arms, but instead remained where he was. Byleth, either needing the contact himself, or sensing Dimitri’s desire, moved from beneath the orb and rested his hands on Dimitri’s sides in a loose embrace. He wrapped his arms around Byleth’s shoulders and dropped his cheek onto the top of his hair.

“What sorts of memories are they?”

“I don't know,” Byleth murmured, “Some seem happy, others are of war.”

Dimitri wondered how that could be, though he was far past even  _ desiring _ an explanation for everything he saw. A race of dragon people living on floating islands in the sky? Sure, they might as well have a floating orb that contains Sothis’ memories, or whatever was going on with it.

Rhea appeared from the room, Dimitri tightened his hold on Byleth instinctually as she approached.

“It will take time for the ritual to be prepared, Byleth. Until then, we should return to the Monastery, so you may rest.”

Byleth did not respond, though it didn't seem she had expected one. She left the building, the others followed behind her, though Seteth stopped beside them.

“Byleth… Are you alright?”

He did not respond, and Seteth sighed. After a moment of hesitation, he too left the building.

“Come on, let's go back,” Dimitri urged into Byleth’s hair, the man nodded against his chest, and followed after them.

They stopped by the forest to pick up their mounts before they made their way back to the Monastery in full.

* * *

Byleth had been eerily quiet as they ascended the steps to their room. It reminded him of how he had been, more cold and distant, when they had first met. Dimitri couldn't read what Byleth’s thoughts were, that alone led him to believe they likely weren't good.

He had not spoken a word their entire journey back. Even when Flayn had prodded him, he simply ignored her, staring straight ahead as though she weren't even there. It had been horribly unnerving, and rather unlike him. Back before Byleth had warmed up to them, even if he had nothing to say, he always acknowledged hearing them. Be it a simple tilt of his head, a shift of his eyes, or a small change in posture. Not always noticeable if one didn't know where to look, but there all the same.

Yet this time, there was absolutely nothing. 

Flayn had given up about halfway back, she looked devastated. Dimitri couldn't blame her, but in truth, his concerns were more for Byleth. What was going through his mind?

While he had wanted to ask him long before they finally made it to the solace of their room, he didn't think he would have gotten a response either. He shut the door and locked it behind them. Byleth stood in the middle of the room, silent. No movement, no sign of even registering where he was. It didn't even look as though he were breathing.

Dimitri had no idea what to do. 

But he had to do  _ something. _

Dimitri slid his gloves off and set them on the desk, then shuffled to stand before his Beloved. When Byleth didn't react, he reached out and rested his bare hand on the thick cotton of his shirt. Still nothing. His brows furrowed, he could feel how tense Byleth’s muscles were beneath his clothes. As though he were prepared to bolt or strike. 

“Byleth,” Dimitri ducked his head to meet the man’s eyes, they were unfocused. Dimitri rubbed his arms, gently, something he hoped would not be seen as threatening. He had no idea what was going through his head, and didn’t want to trigger something.

“Beloved,” He tried again, this time Byleth blinked, and his eyes shifted just enough to meet his own. Dimitri smiled, “There you are.”

He didn't respond, but Dimitri knew he was at least no longer disassociating, or, whatever was going on. He brought his hands to cup the side of Byleth’s face, Byleth closed his eyes and relaxed into the touch. 

“Are you alright?”

Byleth’s eyes opened and after a bit of hesitation, he admitted, “No.”

When he pulled back, Dimitri let him go. Byleth ran his hands through his hair, “How can I be?”

Byleth’s grip on his pale locks tightened, and before he started pulling his hair, Dimitri was quick to pry his fingers away and intertwine them. The man’s breath came in sharp hisses, he could feel the point of talons digging into his bare hand. Dimitri’s heart broke at seeing his love so distressed. Byleth all but ripped his hands from Dimitri’s grip and started shaking them. 

He was confused, until he noticed white scales dotting up the back of his hands and disappearing into the sleeves of his shirt. Smoke curled from the corners of his mouth as the sharp hisses became something more akin to labored hyperventilating. 

Byleth barked a sharp laugh between gasps for air, “How  _ could _ I be?”

Dimitri didn't blame him.

“They didn't even ask,” Byleth spat, “I don't want to become one of them, I never did. I’ve only ever wanted to just live a normal life, and yet here. We.  _ Fucking. _ Are. Maybe I just wanted to grow old with my husband and live in peace!”

Dimitri had never heard such rage in Byleth’s voice before. He dragged the man close again, and rubbed his shoulders, “Byleth, you don't have to do anything. You can be human, we can find out how to perform that ritual instead.”

“I don't have a choice! I do not care about the Nabateans, I don't know any of them, but I can not just doom them all to death!”

“You are your own person,” Dimitri reiterated, his grip on Byleth’s shoulders tightened, “You do not have to do a single thing you do not want to. I will stand by whatever decision you make.”

“I would be killing an entire people,” Byleth snarled, “That isn't right, even  _ I _ know that. And if I chose not to, you really think I’d be given the liberty of leaving?”

Dimitri pulled Byleth against his chest, “I will shelter you against whatever would come, Byleth. If needed, you could come to Fhirdiad, and stay in my castle. I’d protect you against them, we  _ all _ would.”

“There would be blood on my hands, too much, Dima. You couldn't.”

“I would never think poorly of you for choosing your own happiness for once, Byleth. You never asked for this.”

“My own happiness over the  _ lives _ of other people?”

Dimitri squeezed Byleth closer still, and buried his head in the crook of his neck, “I promised I’d stay by your side no matter what you chose, I mean that.”

Byleth’s gaps for air between bites of rage slowed down, while far from calm, it seemed the bought of anger had subsided. Or shifted to something else.

“I’m scared,” Byleth’s voice was  _ so _ small, “What if… What if my ability to feel is tied to my humanity? What if I lose who I am by doing the ritual?”

“I will still remain by your side, Byleth. No matter what, for as long as you’ll let me, I will love you.”

His hands gripped the sides of Dimitri’s vest, he could hear the pop of the leather beneath the strain. 

Byleth hissed, “I won't be  _ me _ anymore Dimitri, there would be no one to love.”

Dimitri pulled Byleth back from his chest and took his jaw between his hands, he turned his head so Byleth would meet his eye, “We do not know that for sure, Byleth. Even if it were true, you will always have me at your side, no matter what comes. Be it as a human, or a Nabatean, whatever. I will protect and stand by you, I promise.”

“I don't want to lose who I am.”

Dimitri didn't know what to say to that. He pressed their foreheads together, and wiped away the tears threatening to fall with his thumb. Byleth was trying so hard to hold his emotions back, his whole body shook with the weight of what he felt. He brought Byleth close again to his chest and rubbed his back.

“I know, my love. I know,” He rested his cheek on Byleth’s head, “We’ll get through this,  _ together. _ ”

Byleth nodded into his vest.

Dimitri kissed the crown of Byleth’s head, “It's alright, Byleth. You can cry, you don't need to bottle your emotions around me.”

As if he needed  _ permission _ to feel, the moment the words left his mouth the floodgates were opened. Byleth clung to Dimitri as an anchor and sobbed openly into his chest. Dimitri wrapped his arms around his shaking shoulders and just held him. 

After Byleth’s hiccups died down, Dimitri picked him up and sat on the edge of their bed, settling Byleth on his lap. He was never good at soothing other people, too haunted by his own demons to even begin to know how. Still, he prayed the way he guided Byleth’s head to rest over his heart, and combed his hand through his hair, did something to ease the burden forced upon his unwilling shoulders. 

No words could really be said, there was nothing  _ to _ say. 

Dimitri hoped Byleth knew he would support him, no matter what happened.

* * *

Dimitri had largely been left out of the planning for the ritual. He wasn't sure what was needed, but he knew Rhea had been gone for most of the preceding day. It didn't have any effect on his duties, but still. 

Byleth didn't trust her, so, neither did he.

There was beginning to be a greater pushback for him to return to Fhirdiad, even if only for a week or two. Dimitri couldn't leave Byleth now, not after all that was happening. Yet even Irina had suggested making a trip up there, only for a few days, if for no other reason than to show he still existed in his people’s eyes. Dimitri had been damn careful that he kept up to date on paperwork, but he supposed that only went so far.

He would discuss it with Byleth, he decided. 

As he climbed the stairs to their room, Dimitri went over a potential timeline. Byleth must know by now when the ritual would take place, the Matriarch had mentioned time to prepare, so if he left tomorrow evening, got to Fhirdiad in three days… No, perhaps he should take the journey in one ride, be there for six days, then return on the seventh? 

It was frustrating. On one hand, he was a  _ King _ and had a duty to his people. He had abandoned them once before, he refused to again. Dimitri would not allow them to even consider that he had chosen to shirk his duties to them, that he did not care for them. 

Yet on the other, he couldn't leave Byleth alone. Not after all he went through, all he was going through. After the ritual, Byleth would no doubt need more time to recover, Dimitri wanted to be by his side and support him as a husband should. 

Perhaps he could move the capital?

Faerghus was far from the only land under his care now. It no longer made sense for the capital to be so far north and removed from the rest of their people. He wouldn't set the capital in Garreg Mach itself, much too difficult to build onto, but he knew there was land not far that could be an ideal location for a capital. So it would be closer to the other territories?

Such a decision could not be made overnight, he knew. He would discuss it with his advisors, and write to Lorenz and the nobles in Enbarr to see what they would think of the move. Though, even if it was decided to move the Capital, it would take easily a year to properly build and move everything over.

It would be a long-term solution, that while would not solve the current dilemma, could potentially keep such issues from arising again.

He heard humming, when he finally reached the third floor. Dimitri did not recognize the tune, nor the voice. It certainly wasn't Byleth. He frowned, and approached the door to the bedroom, the humming came from inside. 

Perturbed, Dimitri opened the door. 

Rhea sat on the edge of the bed, humming as she braided Byleth’s hair with white and pink ribbons. There was something… Uncomfortable in the air. Byleth was frozen like a statue, his eyes trained on the foot of the bed, he could see the tendons in his hands from the tense way he gripped the sheets.

The blanket covering Byleth’s legs was littered with more ribbons, various shades and colors. Though it seemed the white and the pink ones were favored. By Rhea, or by Byleth, Dimitri wasn't sure. Given how distressed his love seemed to be, however, he didn't think any of this was of Byleth’s design.

“What are you doing here?” Dimitri inquired, he could play civil for now. 

“I am spending time with Byleth, of course,” She smiled at him, a disgustingly saccharine grin. Dimitri’s skin crawled.

Byleth didn't move, didn't emote, nothing. Akin to a rabbit caught under the gaze of a predator, Byleth was absolutely frozen.

“I have something to discuss with him, alone, if you will.”

Rhea tilted her head at him, her eyes were glazed over, Dimitri wondered if she even truly saw him there, “Surely I can hear whatever you must say to him, we are family after all.”

“I need to speak to my fiancé in  _ private, _ ” He reiterated, his patience for formalities lost.

She frowned, then tied off the braid she had been working on, and stood in a fluid motion. Dimitri stepped aside as she walked past him. He watched as she descended down the stairs, then closed the door and locked it. He waited to be sure she didn't come back up, then immediately was at Byleth’s side.

Byleth was already tearing out the braid Rhea had forced upon him.

Dimitri sat beside him on the bed and took the ribbons when they were thrust into his hands. His brows furrowed, “Are you alright?”

Byleth huffed, and that was all the response he got. Dimitri took it as a no, and gathered the other stray ribbons from their sheets and piled them on the end table for the time being. He would move them later. 

“Rhea is acting… Odd.”

“How so?”

Another huff was his reply, Byleth smoothed out his hair to his usual mess, and slumped his shoulders when the strands were back to his liking.

“She is… Something is off, I do not like it.”

_ Was Byleth safe here? _ Came his first thought. Byleth tugged at his hands, and their fingers intertwined. Even with the gaps left behind from his ring and pinky finger, their hands fit together perfectly. Dimitri gave them a gentle squeeze, and Byleth seemed to actually relax.

“You had something to discuss?”

“Ah, right,” It seemed terribly crass to bring up him leaving after such a scene. Still, he wouldn't lie to Byleth, “I… Will need to return back to Fhirdiad, even if only for a week or so. I have been gone from the capital for too long, I-”

“Very well.”

Dimitro’s brows furrowed, “Is that alright? I… After this, I wouldn't want you to feel uncomfortable or unsafe.”

“I am surprised you stayed as long as you have. You have a duty to your people, Dima. I know that,” Byleth shrugged, then added, “Could… I accompany you?”

Dimitri’s brows furrowed, “Byleth, normally I would be overjoyed to have you by my side. However with your current condition, I fear the journey would be unpleasant for you.”

“Tolerating  _ Rhea _ is unpleasant.”

He chuckled, “I do not doubt that. Still, I don't want… I fear you may have another episode, I wouldn't even begin to know how to help you.”

“I am not made of glass,” Byleth snorted, “I will be safer by your side than I would be here.”

Dimitri stared down at their intertwined hands, he didn't doubt it, unfortunately. He liked to think Byleth would be safe here, would be taken care of and protected. Yet Rhea’s behavior was unnerving at best, and while he trusted Seteth and Indech, and Flayn of course, he didn't trust the other two further than he could spit.

“If… I could convince Seteth or Indech to come with us, just in case something happens during the journey to you, I would be more comfortable.”

Byleth titled his head, then nodded after a moment of thought, “Very well.”

Dimitri brought his knuckles to his lips. He prayed nothing would happen, yet, he couldn't shake the feeling of dread that hung in the air.

Byleth shifted and pulled his hand from Dimitri’s mouth, to press a gentle kiss against him instead. He hummed into the action, and untangled one hand to stroke the smooth curve of his cheek, Byleth pulled back just enough for their noses to touch.

Dimitri longed to chase after his mouth, though he stopped himself, and instead asked, “Do you know any more of the ritual?”

Byleth hummed and slumped forward, resting his cheek on Dimitri’s shoulder. The angle his spine was bent at couldn't have been comfortable, though Byleth made no effort to move. Dimitri brushed some stray hair behind an ear. It twitched when his knuckles brushed against the tip.

“She told me a bit about the ritual, she plans to have it next month at the start of the new moon,” Byleth explained, “I was not told what will happen in the ritual yet, only it will happen in the holy tomb, and will roughly take a day or two to complete.”

That seemed to be both too short and too long for such a ritual to happen. Though he knew so little about Nabatean magic, he supposed it could be reasonable.

“Why then?”  _ … And not sooner? _

“I am unsure. While the woman stated it would not have any effect on how well the ritual performed, Rhea was incessant on having it then.” 

Dimitri couldn't see his face, but he imagined he was frowning given the swivel of his ears.

A part of Dimitri wanted to believe she was doing such to ensure the process would go as smoothly as possible, just in case. Yet with Byleth’s suspicion, and his own growing wariness of her, he found it hard to believe. Perhaps he had grown cynical, after all she had hidden from him, from everyone. Maybe she was genuinely trying to help the best way she knew how.

He had to have faith she was trying to do the right thing.

Dimitri rested his cheek on Byleth’s temple, “... Do you want to go through with it?”

Byleth did not respond.

He attempted to pull Byleth back to get a look at his face, but Byleth simply clung to him as a leech and would not budge. Dimitri gave up with a soft sigh. 

Satisfied he would not longer be pried away, Byleth relaxed and replied, quiet, “I need time. We can… We’ll talk about it later.”

Not the ideal answer, but Dimitri nodded and rubbed his back, “Alright.”

When Byleth stifled a yawn into his neck, Dimitri patted the back of Byleth’s head, “Come on, let us undress and get some much needed rest. I will discuss the plan with Seteth tomorrow, and hopefully we can set out the following morning.”

* * *

“How do you feel?” Dimitri asked, as he buttoned up his own shirt. After convincing Indech to come along (Seteth had been too busy) they scheduled to leave three days after their previous talk.

Byleth had been acting more or less the same, as far as Dimitri could tell. No new pain, at least.

“Tired,” Byleth grunted and popped his head through his thin black shirt, “Otherwise fine.”

Good.

There was a rap against their bedroom door, Dimitri adjusted his sleeves and opened it just enough to take in who their guest was. This early in the morning he imagined it would have been Dedue, yet, the one before him was anyone but.

Rhea’s smile was subdued, forced probably. Her hands were clasped together before her body, an action to make her seem smaller and more demure. 

Dimitri didn't trust it.

“How may I help you, Lady Rhea?”

“I need to speak to Byleth.”

Dimitri frowned, “He is getting dressed, I can pass along the message to him.”

“It is of utmost importance that we speak.”

“Just let her in,” Byleth growled, and Dimitri did as he requested. The man had his pants on now, at least.

The moment she stepped into the room she flew over to Byleth and all but pushed him to sit on their bed. Dimitri forced down the indignation, and allowed Byleth to handle it. He was a grown man, Dimitri did not need to guard over him like an over-eager mutt. 

However the moment Byleth showed even the hit of desire for his help, he would throw her out of the room without hesitation.

Byleth pulled himself from her with a frown, “What do you want?”

Rhea knelt at his feet, “You mustn't go, Byleth. You are far too ill, you will perish on the journey.”

Byleth narrowed his eyes at her.

Rhea grabbed his hands in an uncomfortably intimate gesture, “You have to stay here, if I am not there to heal you, you’ll die when you have another episode.”

He slapped her hands away, “Indech is accompanying us.”

“He does not know enough magic, what little he does will not save you,” Rhea pleaded. She moved to grab his hands again, but Byleth avoided her reach and stood instead. 

She rose with a hard set to her brow, and brushed nonexistent dust from her gown, “I will not allow this. You cannot leave the Monastery, Byleth, it is for your own good.”

“I am not your property,” Byleth spat, smoke curled between bared teeth, “You’ve no say in what I do.”

Dimitri felt it fit for him to step in, “Enough, Rhea. Byleth will be safe with me, I swear it. He  _ wants _ to accompany me.”

“His  _ wants _ are irrelevant,” She snarled, “Should he be too weak, the magic will not take. This is  _ more _ than him, the lives of our people are on the line.”

Dimitri exhaled a sharp breath through his nose, “In case you forgot, he is his own person. He can decide what he wants to do, if he decided he did not want to go through with that ritual, you could not force him.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, she closed the distance between them. Hot air curled from sharp canines, “You know nothing of what you speak.”

“Neither do you.  _ You _ forced this upon him,” Dimitri glowered, “Byleth has suffered his whole life because you were too selfish to let the dead rest. Even now, you tote the relics around like sick trophies. You—”

Dimitri was cut off by a hand fisted in the front of his vest, “How  _ dare _ you.”

The action was short lived, before Dimitri could even process what had happened, Rhea stumbled back with a yelp, clutching her hand to her chest. Green seeped between where her fingers curled around her palm. 

Byleth stood before him, a low growl reverberated through the room, “Lay your hands on him again, and I will remove them, _ permanently. _ ”

Rhea frowned, and instead of addressing Byleth, made eye contact with Dimitri. Her voice was eerily calm when she spoke, “He is unstable. His own health aside, would you truly risk him attacking one of your advisors? Or worse, one of your civilians?”

Byleth froze, and Dimitri defended him immediately, “You  _ provoked _ him! You have done nothing but poke and prod us both since you walked through the door! How dare you insinuate he would attack without reason—”

“Dimitri,” Byleth’s voice cut him off, “She… Might be right.”

“No, she is not,” Dimitri turned Byleth around and brought his hands to force Byleth to meet his gaze, “You're fine.”

Byleth’s eyes lowered.

“I know you did not mean to lash out, Byleth,” Rhea cooed, “But are you willing to risk attacking someone unkind to your mate again? He has been gone for quite some time, there may be repercussions from his support for you.”

Dimitri tightened his grip on Byleth. She was manipulating him, clear as day. Spinning the tale so Byleth was the guilty party. He would not allow it.

“Silence,” He brought Byleth close to his chest, shielding him from Rhea best he could given their position, and pointed to the door, “Leave. You have done enough damage.”

She frowned, though made no move to follow his order.

“Leave before I  _ force _ you to.”

Rhea scoffed, but left on her own accord. Dimitri closed the door the moment she stepped from their room. 

“Byleth, ignore her. You did nothing wrong.”

Byleth pulled back from his arms, brows furrowed, “She is… Not entirely wrong, Dima.”

“Yes she is, she—”

“Let me finish.”

Dimitri ducked his head in apology, and Byleth continued.

“I am not one to lose my cool, the fact that I did attack her is… Odd,” Byleth frowned, “She is attempting to guilt me to stay, yes, but her words have their basis in truth. If others are too mouthy to you, or insult your ability to rule… I will defend you. Neither of us can risk me actually harming someone.”

“Byleth you aren't just some… Some rabid animal that will fly off the handle with no povacation, if either of us should be worried about acting as such, it should be me.”

Byleth snorted, “You don't give yourself enough credit, Dimitri.”

“Neither do you.”

Byleth exhaled, a sound  _ almost _ akin to a sigh, but not quite, then spoke, “It may be for the best if I stayed behind.”

Dimitri tilted Byleth’s chin to meet his gaze, “Is this of your own choosing, or because Rhea made you believe something that is simply not true?”

“Both, perhaps. If Rhea is truly so desperate to keep me at Garreg Mach, I do have concerns she may attempt to sabotage the situation. Perhaps push one or both of us enough to lash out. I cannot take that risk, not with you, or your people. I could care less what the public sees me as, but I will not cause your reputation harm because I am struggling to manage this form.”

“Byleth…”

“You yourself had concerns about me accompanying you.”

“For  _ wildly _ different reasons, Love, it wasn't because I do not trust you.”

Byleth shrugged, it was dismissive. The man already had his mind set on staying behind, to Dimitri’s frustration. Did Byleth worry he agreed with Rhea? That he saw him as some sort of threat? A monster? 

Perhaps he should cancel the journey, he couldn't leave Byleth alone with his thoughts now, not if they were of this.

Byleth stroked his thumb along Dimitri’s jaw, “Do not alter your plans. Your people need you now, I can fend for myself.”

“Byleth… I…”

“There is much I do not know of the ritual, it is better for us both if I stayed.”

Dimitri didn't want him to stay. He wanted Byleth at his side, even with his fear of Byleth falling ill again, being away from him? The mere thought was unbearable. He buried his face in Byleth’s neck, the hand once on his face moved to rub at the base of his neck where hair met skin.

“Seteth and Flayn will be here, does that ease your concern?”

It did, but such knowledge did not help the ache throbbing in his chest. He pulled back and swooped down to steal a kiss.

“The moment you feel unsafe, write to me and I will be here.”

“I doubt it will come to that.”

“Promise me, Byleth.”

“Very well, I promise.”

Satisfied at his answer, he stole another chaste peck before he finished dressing.

* * *

Dimitri was surprised Indech still desired to tag along on the journey, even without Byleth’s presence.

“The world has changed so much. I want to see just how much differs from my time.”

That was fair enough. Byleth and the others saw the trio off. The smug smile Rhea gave him was almost enough to convince Dimitri to call the whole trip off, regardless of consequences. He didn't, but it was damn tempting.

_ Dimitri was furious. _

Still, he pushed his rage down. Perhaps Indech knew more about what Byleth would be going through in the coming month, he seemed fairly well versed in Nabatean magic. Even if Rhea claimed he was not proficient at it.

“What can you tell me about the ritual, Indech?” He asked, once they had taken to the road proper, the Monastery little more than a spec behind them in the distance.

The man tilted his head at him, then focused his gaze forward, “Honestly, I do not know much about it myself. I did not know there was such a thing until the Matriarch told us. To my understanding, Byleth will be put to sleep, forced into his form as a dragon, then wake up a Nabatean. I am unsure of the logistics past that, unfortunately.”

Dimitri frowned, “Are they going to wound him?”

“Likely, but not enough to kill him. Basically force his body to regenerate as a dragon, I believe.”

He did not trust that.

“Will you be present during the ritual?”

Indech shrugged, “Likely not. Ci-  _ Seteth _ will be, however. He will ensure our sister doesn't… Do anything unsavory.”

That put Dimitri’s mind at ease enough to feel less frightened of the process. Still, “If Byleth were to refuse the ritual, what then?”

Indech shrugged, “Our people are dying. As unfortunate as it is, he remains our last hope of survival. Should he not follow through with the process, our people will die.”

“Byleth never asked for any of this,” Dimitri growled.

“No, such a burden should never have been placed upon his shoulders. Our mother’s heart should never have been placed into a person to begin with, much less an  _ infant, _ ” Indech’s thick brows furrowed, “The burden should have been upon our sister, if anyone.”

“You do not approve of Rhea’s actions.”

“Haven't for a long time, she was… Consumed by grief when our mother passed. We all were, when she rose blades against those that defiled Sothis’ grave, it had been obvious we joined the fight. A lot of Nabateans died in that battle, we were forced to the sky when she spared the families of those that defiled the dead. Macuil and I were gravely injured in the fight, and had to sleep. When we awoke… It was a different world.”

Dimitri couldn't imagine waking up to a world revolving around the blood of those who had been killed, their bodies heralded as sacred weapons.

“We were disgusted by what happened in our absence, and left. I went to the lake, where you found me. It had once been my home, though had since fallen to ruin. I had planned to spend the rest of my life there, waiting for death to take me. Macuil went north, I do not know what happened to him between then and when we reunited. Though he grieved as hard as any of us,” Indech’s shoulders fell, “His mate had been killed in the red canyon tragedy, as had Seteth’s, a human caught up in a war not meant for them.”

That surprised him. Macuil hated humans so much now, how could he have had a human mate? Even knowing they had been killed by other humans, what would have fostered such a deep hatred for the race of what had once been his love?

His confusion must have shown on his face, as Indech sighed, “It is a complicated matter. His mate… Was not a good person. They had been using Macuil, and he was blinded by his love. It only came to light just how much they had been taking advantage of him  _ after _ they had been killed.”

“How were they using him?”

Indech pursed his lips, then shook his head, “It is not my story to tell. Macuil had been deeply hurt by the revelation, that is all that I am comfortable to speak. They used him as a tool… Worse, perhaps. Any deeper than that, you will have to get the story from Macuil himself.”

Dimitri didn't think he wanted the story, in truth. It was enough to know the man had been taken advantage of. While curious as to the reasoning, or the specifics, Dimitri was not going to be the one digging up bitter memories for simple wonders. He of all people would know the horror that could bring.

So he settled for a simple, “I see.”

And left the subject at that. 

Dimitri brought them to a more hurried pace, he wanted to arrive in Fhirdiad as soon as possible, do what was needed, then return to his Beloved’s side. That itching dread clawing at the back of his mind was too much to ignore.

Something wasn't right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HO BOY WAS THIS CHAPTER A TOUGHIE. 
> 
> I am so glad I finally managed to get it to somewhere I like it now, and I hope you all enjoyed! This bad boy took ages, but hopefully with this hurdle out of the way things can get moving again. We still got six more chapters left, so the fun is just beginning ya'll. I can't wait to see everyone's reactions to the coming events.
> 
> Also thank you for the comments!! They always make my day reading them, it means a lot!
> 
> Anyway, a usual here is my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/vulturepops) for anyone who wants to come cry over dimileth with me


	21. A Coin to Flip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seteth wanted to save his people, if the lives of his own were endangered, Byleth would do everything in his power to protect them. He would have stooped to far, _far,_ more underhanded tactics than Seteth ever did, ever would.
> 
> Perhaps he and Rhea were more alike than he had initially believed.

Seteth had done a good job taking over many of his duties, while Byleth had been unable to. His eyes scanned over the summary the man had written, tallying expenses and where they went, sermons, choirs, everything he had done in Byleth’s place. Well documented, though boring to read. A part of Byleth appreciated the no-nonsense take on the report though, he would have likely gotten irritated if Seteth had embellished the facts to make it for a more ‘interesting’ read.

Byleth was far from recovered, frankly, he was in constant pain and admittedly had a rather short fuse for bullshit. However, long enough had passed since he had neglected his duties. While he did not care for them as Dimitri cared for his own, Byleth knew it was about time to at least work toward taking responsibility again. Byleth liked the people that dwelled within Garreg Mach’s halls, he wanted to make sure their lives were comfortable and secure.

They were not strangers, so Byleth cared for their happiness.

Seteth slumped into the office, looking positively exhausted. Byleth grunted his greeting, and took another sip of tea while he returned his attention to the scroll. Seteth seemed surprised to see him there. When Byleth pondered it, he supposed such a reaction would be warranted. He never had worked in Seteth’s office before.

He did not seem irritated by it though, so Byleth continued to read.

Seteth nudged him to the side enough to open one of the drawers in his desk, pulled out a bundle of scrolls, and began sorting them. 

“Do you plan on leading the choir tonight?”

“Yes.”

Seteth nodded, then gathered the freshly sorted scrolls. He ferried them to his shelves, placing them in the corresponding row according to what they were, he imagined. Byleth did not know his sorting techniques. 

“I must ask, while it is nice to see you up and about, why are you in  _ my _ office?”

“I was kicked from my quarters,” Byleth huffed.

Seteth laughed.

Byleth did not know why what he said was funny, though didn't really care enough to question it. In truth, he was rather irritated over the situation. His room was not cleaned for some time, given he had been near constantly bed-bound. However, since he was more or less well enough to walk around unaided, it apparently was the prime time to clean it. 

He wished they would have waited until Dimitri returned at least. The room had smelled strongly of him, and Byleth found the smell comforting when his body awoke with jolts of pain and panic in the middle of the night. That was apparently not a good enough reason for his room to not be cleaned, so the servants ushered him out. While they claimed having a clean room and fresh sheets would be much better, Byleth wasn't sure if he’d find the ‘fresh’ scent more appealing. 

Perhaps some of the clothes left in their shared closet would have Dimitri’s smell lingering on them? He hoped they left that well enough alone, at least. 

“I assume they are cleaning?”

Byleth nodded.

Seteth chuckled, “They are trying to help, Byleth. After they finish, you can place an order for servants to clean your quarters only when you permit it, or to simply not touch it at all. Flayn and I had that done after the first surprise clean. I believe Rhea had allowed scheduled cleaning, though.”

“Why?”

“A Nabatean thing,” He explained, “We have stronger senses than humans, so small things like sudden changes in scents can be alarming for us, especially if it is within our own personal spaces.”

Byleth supposed that made sense. It would explain why he was so distrubed by such an ultimately trivial thing. He recalled actually getting irritated with his father, when they had stayed at an inn and used  _ their _ soaps instead of the mix of fat and herbs he used normally. Jeralt had been very perturbed by his sudden coldness toward him. 

Byleth was rather young at the time admittedly, and more or less grew out of it. Though still found himself uncomfortable when articles of clothing he owned were washed without his knowledge.

Or now, when his room was being cleaned.

“Hm, perhaps it is good you chose to stay behind, as surprised as I am you did,” Seteth mused, “There is much you’ll need to learn about being a Nabatean, both in culture and anatomy. You’ll need to greatly increase the amount of food you eat, and incorporate some raw meats in your diet.”

Byleth lifted a lip, “I have yet to see you or Flayn eat anything raw.”

“Of course not,” He scoffed, “We already appear strange with our eyes and hair, imagine how it would be taken were we seen eating  _ raw _ meat? Besides, while not ideal, we really only need to eat it once a week to maintain health. We’ve adapted to gaining nutrition from human food, but such is not truly good for us.”

“Like a dog.”

“ _ Really? _ ”

Byleth didn't actually mean to irk him that time, a simple comparison, he thought. 

“Though you are not entirely wrong.” Seteth continued with a sigh, “We are hunters, our teeth are not simply for intimidation, despite their admitted usefulness in that regard.”

Byleth didn't question further. He already was irritated with the situation as a whole, he knew delving further into the matter would only serve to frustrate him more. Especially given the exchange with Rhea just the day prior, he was undoubtedly bitter. 

He was not naive, he knew damn well Rhea had goaded him into reacting. However, he still reacted, that alone was enough for Byleth to reconsider accompanying Dimitri. It was far past time Dimitri had returned to the Kingdom, he knew that. He wondered if Dimitri would be scorned for his absence.

Such thoughts were part of the reason he had remained behind, Byleth worried he’d lose his temper if someone got too critical or crass toward him. As it were, it took so much effort to put on the front of existing normally, he had precious little patience for much else. Byleth was far from happy over it, but he knew staying behind was the better choice for them both.

“You look deep in thought,” Seteth commented.

Byleth frowned and rolled the scroll he had since finished reading back up.

“Forgive me if it is a personal matter, but why  _ did _ you choose to stay behind? I had fully expected to continue acting in your stead until far past the ritual’s completion.”

“Rhea did not tell you?”

“She said you had acknowledged you were unable to make the journey,” He tilted his head, “It does concern me, as such a trivial thing would certainly not have stopped you from trying.”

“I attacked her after she grabbed Dimitri. She did not want me to leave.”

Seteth seemed surprised, Byleth was not.

“My tolerance for irritating matters is low, and I did not trust Rhea to leave well enough alone, that is why I remained behind.”

“I feared she would do something like this,” Seteth hissed, “She has this ridiculous notion that Dimitri will ‘steal’ you away from us, or convince you to not move forward with the ritual.”

Even Seteth fully expected him to become one of them. No asking for his opinion, not even considering if he himself wanted this. Byleth did not, frankly, he’d rather just die in a couple years as he was, than go through with the damn thing. Yet to do so, would doom the last survivors of a massacre. 

_ Could he really be so selfish? _

He could. Byleth knew damn well he was  _ not _ a compassionate person. He did not care for those outside of who he knew. He’d doom the rest of the world if it meant protecting his own, without so much as a second thought. It had made growing up as a mercenary easy, though made so much else in his life significantly more frustrating.

“...And if I chose to not perform the ritual, of my own accord?”

Seteth froze. The air between them was tense, though, after a couple moments, Seteth deflated and leant against the far wall. He fingered the lapels of his cape with a frown, though as far as Byleth could tell, was not angry.

“We would die,” He sighed, “Though, in truth, even should we not have you to keep our land afloat, we would die long before the risk of falling.”

“Explain.”

“Simply put, the Nabateans are already dying. Our land cannot grow crops. We cannot tend livestock, any we bring up die long before we reach the island. Most of our kind cannot make the frequent trips back and forth to tend to a farm on the surface. Even should we escape starvation, our immunities are low, sickness has grown to be a serious problem for us. Few of our children reach adolescence, much less adulthood. Nearly all of our elders have perished.”

“Why bother then?” Byleth tilted his head, “What purpose would I have to watch over a dying people? Surely even Rhea knows it is a lost cause, then.”

Seteth scowled, Byleth was unsure if the look was aimed at him, or at the situation as a whole.

“Rhea believes you becoming a Nabatean will simply fix everything, she is wrong, but not entirely, I suppose. You are well loved, your students accepted the knowledge of our people well, surprisingly so.”

Byleth ignored the indignace bubbling in his chest,  _ of course _ they would have.

“Even outside of your students, you are widely adored. It may be selfish, or even naive to hope, however… If you were to become one of us in full, perhaps the time for our people to hide could come to an end. Should our people be safe among humans again, we would recover, undoubtedly. The process would have to be slow, of course, yet being able to live on the surface again would be the key to our further survival, I believe.”

“You were against informing them before, why the change?”

“I have proof now that our people  _ could _ live in harmony with humans again.” 

“Is Rhea not beloved? Why should I be the one to front the change?”

“She is well-liked, yes. But she also has her fair share of… Controversies. You do not.”

“I've killed many people.”

“We had been at war for a long time, all of us have.”

“Before the war.”

Seteth thumped the back of his head against the wall, “That is true as well, however your past as a mercenary is well known. Yet you are renowned regardless. You do not give yourself much credit for compassion, I've noticed.”

Byleth shrugged.

“Do you want to go through with this?” Seteth spoke, “I… Realize now the decision had been made before you spoke your piece.”

_ Did _ he?

No. Not at all.

Yet, he recognized the truth in Seteth’s words. It was foolish to believe Byleth of all people could be the one to sway the minds of others, but he could see a desperate attempt when he saw one. Seteth wanted to save his people, if the lives of his own were endangered, Byleth would do everything in his power to protect them. He would have stooped to far,  _ far, _ more underhanded tactics than Seteth ever did, ever would.

Perhaps he and Rhea were more alike than he had initially believed.

The thought disturbed him, but it was something to be mulled over later.

“I will,” Byleth decided, “I expect full transparency to Dimitri.”

Seteth let out a heavy breath, “Yes, yes of course. There is much I would have needed to inform him of anyway. Much will likely change physically for you, so there’ll be accommodations needing to be made, though with your current aversion to meat—”

Byleth allowed him to ramble to himself, only half listening. He had not expected to change so much, though he guessed becoming an entirely different species would warrant such. 

“There is much you’ll need to be made aware of too, of course,” Byleth decided to humor him and give his full attention, “There will likely be a recovery period as you adjust. Once you even out, your diet will of course need to change. You’ll need to consume a kill at minimum once a week, including the bones.”

Byleth scrunched his nose up. He was far from squeamish, and could kill and skin an animal just fine, but to eat one whole? The thought sounded rather disgusting, frankly. He had barely been able to stomach the raw fish Rhea brought him when he still maintained his other form.

“Then there’s the nesting, if you even have the need. No Nabateans born within this age nest anymore, so that very well may be obsolete. There will have to be a change to medical care, a human doctor will not cut it for illnesses past minor colds. Less pressingly, your hair will likely grow significantly faster, I would urge you to keep it long as according to tradition, but frankly that is the least of concerns, you of course can style it as you wish…”

He continued to prattle on. 

Byleth was unfortunately certain he would regret this.

* * *

Rhea was  _ far _ from welcome in his room, yet there she was nonetheless.

Byleth heard her open the door, though pointedly ignored her presence as he scrounged his and Dimitri’s closet for something that hadn't been tampered with. Luckily, it seemed as though his own cloak was untouched, though everything else had been cleaned. He pulled the cloak off it’s hanger and brought it to his nose, it only smelled like himself.

Little to no remains of Dimitri were left on the garb, to his frustration. Cleanings were going to stop immediately. He had a feeling it was going to be a long, rather sleepless week.

Byleth frowned, it seemed he had grown too accustomed to Dimitri’s presence. He loved the man, and by extension his company, but it would do no good to find himself functioning less when he was not around. 

How frustrating.

Rhea cleared her throat, as though he were not entirely aware of her presence. Perhaps if he indulged her, she would leave. He inclined his head just enough to stare at her from the corner of his eye.

“What?”

“I have brought you food, and started a warm bath for you.”

“Leave the food on the desk,” He grunted and returned his attention to his cloak, he could still sleep with it. While it did not smell of Dimitri, perhaps the knowledge of it being made by him would be comforting enough.

“Allow me to feed you,” She stepped closer to him, “The food I’ve brought will help strengthen you for the process.”

“I am not a child.”

“No, but you deserve to be taken care of,” Rhea moved closer still, Byleth moved toward his bed to keep the distance between them.

“I’ve no interest in being taken care of, least of all by you.”

“You are still upset about Dimitri?”

Byleth grunted, though did not grace her with any further words.

“You must understand, Byleth, I did what I had to. It was better for you both, what would have happened if you went? Far too many things could have gone wrong, you're safer here. Safer with  _ me. _ ”

The way she spoke made Byleth’s skin crawl. His hip brushed the nightstand as he continued attempting to keep the distance, though Rhea closed it within a manner of seconds. She shifted the plate to one hand, and brought her other out to rest on his cheek. Byleth recoiled from the touch and swatted her hand away.

Her brows pinched, “I see. Do you truly see me as such a villain? Byleth, you are so important to me. You’ll lead to the salvation of my people, I must protect you.”

“I am in no need of protecting.”

“Do you truly believe you could defend yourself from a real threat in your condition? Really, Byleth, do not be foolish.”

Byleth was getting whiplash from her words. Was she trying to help him or smother him? His head hurt.

She placed the plate of food on the edge of the bed, then again, brushed her spindly fingers over his cheekbone, then brought her hand down to his shoulder and nudged him to sit on the bed. Byleth resisted the movement, but Rhea forced him to sit. She knelt before his feet, grabbed the plate again, and upon scooping up a serving of the fish, held the fork up to his mouth.

Byleth frowned, he refused to be treated as an infant.

“Byleth you must eat,” She urged, “Your body must retain its strength.”

He would eat, on his own time. Certainly not when being forced to.

“When you become the Goddess, you will be fed as I am feeding you now. You must grow accustomed to it.”

Byleth bit back a retort, he was  _ not _ becoming the Goddess. 

“Leave.”

“Not until you eat.”

Byleth frowned, he could try and force her out. Though that would cost quite a fair bit of energy, and likely lead to blood getting spilt. Despite his irritation, she did have a point on one subject, Byleth was weak. Even if he were to try and force her out, if she truly fought back, he would be helpless. 

A fragile thing he was, apparently. 

“If I let you feed me, will you leave me alone?”

“I will leave your room until it is time for you to eat again, then I will feed you once more.”

He wanted to protest, but Byleth just wanted her gone  _ now. _ She was stinking up his room, and he was exhausted. He just wanted to be alone.

So, he opened his mouth. 

Rhea’s eyes lit up and slid the meat between his teeth. Byleth loathed every second of it.

When Dimitri returned, he hoped he could convince her to let him handle this shit instead. Dimitri at least would let him actually eat like a fucking adult.

He humored her until the plate was empty, then, true to her word. She left without further fuss. Thankful he was finally alone, and exhausted from the sermon he had led just prior, Byleth curled into his bed with his cloak around his shoulders. The weight was nice, and even if it didn't smell like Dimitri, it reminded him of the man. 

Good enough, he decided.

* * *

“We will have to go over the process of the ritual,” Seteth explained. 

Byleth followed in his footsteps as they descended the stairs to the Goddess’ tomb. As they reached the main chamber, Seteth brought him to the open casket, where the sword of the creator had once laid.

“You’ll be laid upon the casket,” Seteth explained, “It is not where she died, but her body had rested here before. It will be the closest connection we have.”

Byleth grunted.

“There is… Another matter, I find it imperative to inform you. Especially upon just learning it myself,” Seteth frowned and furrowed his brows. He did not make eye contact as he continued to speak, gaze never once leaving the casket, “There is a chance, this ritual will kill you.”

He wasn't surprised.

“An unfortunately high one, at that. During the ritual, we will have to kill you.”

“I will definitely die, then.”

“Yes… And no. The idea is to kill you, or, your human body. When you die, the creststone will be forced to abandon your human form, and remake you as a Nabatean.”

Byleth tilted his head, “If that was all that had been needed, would falling off a  _ cliff _ not be enough?”

“You were not close enough to where the Goddess had been buried, that’s why it is so important the ritual is done here. It does not negate the risk though,” Seteth worried his bottom lip between his teeth, “There is a chance that your stone will be unable to remake you, and you will die. Permanently.”

He supposed that explained why Rhea had been so wildly incessant on keeping him fed and maintaining his strength. As wildly uncomfortable as her actions made him, he recognized that it seemed her heart had been in the right place.

“So, what? You’ll stab me and hope I come back to life?”

Seteth snorted a chuckle, “More or less. We will likely slit your throat, or something of a similar nature. Minimal damage ultimately, though enough to kill you, and plenty far from your crest stone.”

Byleth tilted his head.

“The crest stone is key here, ultimately. If it got damaged in any way during the ritual, you’d have absolutely no chance of recovery.”

He scratched his chest, Byleth wondered if he managed to heal, and come back as a Nabatean… If his heart would actually beat. Would he be real? Could he truly hope to no longer be little more than a corpse on borrowed time?

Seteth continued, undoubtedly unaware of the thoughts swirling in Byleth’s mind, “However, I must stress this, there is a good chance you will not recover. It will ultimately be a flip of a coin if you’ll live or not, as much as it pains me to say. As confident as Rhea is the ritual will go as planned, I… Am not so naive.”

Ah.

“I will leave it up to you. If you decide to inform Dimitri of this knowledge.”

With that Seteth grasped his shoulder briefly in a firm hold, then passed him as he left the tomb, leaving Byleth alone with his thoughts.

Undoubtedly, if he informed Dimitri of what he knew, the man would be adamantly against the ritual. He’d likely insist on becoming human instead, though, that ritual probably would have similar risks. Byleth ran a hand through his hair.

He did not keep secrets from Dimitri, he swore he would tell the man everything that affected the present. Byleth was not in the habit of breaking promises.

His other option would be to continue living as he was. Constant pain and exhaustion, then what will ultimately become a long, drawn out, death for him. His last years, or perhaps months, would be miserable. 

But he’d be by Dimitri’s side.

The  _ chance _ of dying but coming back to life, against absolute death, but with more time in the now. 

Byleth forced his hand from his hair before he started pulling the strands out, and let it fall limp to his side.

He had never meant to live, from conception, he was a doomed child. His whole life was borrowed time, a corpse pulled taught by a heart not his own. Byleth scratched his chest again, if there was a chance he could own it. Have his own body, his own heart… Selfishly, Byleth wanted it. He wanted to be real, he wanted to be alive like everyone else. 

_ Like Dimitri. _

That… Was most of his motivation for now genuinely wanting to go through with the ritual. As selfish as it was, Byleth was selfish. It was something he had long ago realized. If not regarding someone he decided was his, he couldn't care less what happened to others. The Nabatean people, admittedly, included. 

He cared for Seteth, and as such, cared for how he felt toward his people. Yet in truth, it likely would not have been enough to fully sway Byleth. But the possibility of being whole?

_ That _ was tempting.

Byleth had already agreed to the ritual, and he would not back down from his word. Yet… He worried how Dimitri would take it.

Ultimately, it came down to a simple answer. He would not lie to Dimitri.

The man, as his fiancé, deserved to know the risk Byleth was about to take. Perhaps he did not need to understand the why, or the how. Though if he asked, Byleth would not hide it from him.

Three weeks until the ritual would happen. Dimitri would be back, hopefully, within the next couple days. It bothered Byleth more than he really cared to admit, that if he  _ did _ perish during the ritual, he’d only die as Dimitri's fiancé. 

A mere blip in Dimitri’s life.

Byleth shook his head of the intrusive thoughts. He had been standing in the chamber for too long. There were responsibilities he had to maintain, and things to do. 

So, without further consideration, he left the tomb. When Dimitri returned, he would sit the man down and they would discuss the coming risk they faced.

Dimitri would not take it well, he imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a pretty idle chapter, all things considered. I think this is the shortest chapter in the fic so far, but tbh mostly because the chapters from here on are gonna be pretty dang long.
> 
> BUT! We got that update out, heck yeah. I hope you all enjoyed it!! I'm really curious to see how you folks think this will play out, especially with still five more chapters left to go.
> 
> Also! The usual [Twitter](https://twitter.com/vulturepops) link for anyone that wants to follow or join in in crying over these dorks.


	22. Decisions Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Risks?”
> 
> Dimitri was patient while Byleth sought out how to word his thoughts. They troubled him, clearly, and that alone had Dimitri at half a mind to just pull his armor back on and whisk Byleth back to Fhirdiad, away from Rhea.
> 
> “The ritual has a… High chance of ending with my death.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YA'LL  
> There's been fanart of the fic and I am cryin' yall. Please please go check out the art and give them both tons of love. I'm hekn crying, look how amazing dragon Byleth looks in their styles ;; u;;
> 
> [Link](https://twitter.com/GremlinTall/status/1282011344603152391) by @GremlinTall  
> and  
> [Link](https://twitter.com/Moosephu/status/1281048060429205507) by @Moosephu

Ultimately, the proposition of moving the capital was taken well enough. Mixed reactions but overall, many agreed it would be the politically wise thing to do. He would need to run the prospect by Byleth, before any further plans were made, but he was admittedly fairly confident his Beloved would embrace the idea fully.

He missed him.

While his quarters were kept plenty warm from the Fhirdiad cold, it wasn't the same just having the fireplace lit and pelts to rest with. Though in truth, it was not so much the warmth that comforted him, but rather the presence of Byleth himself. 

He’d start the journey back when the sun graced the horizon. Dedue wouldn't allow him to ride straight through, which yes, was technically the better option, but still. Dimitri couldn't wait to be back in his love’s arms again. Moving the capital, if nothing else, would allow him to see Byleth far more often, even after he healed.

He sealed the last scroll for the night, and set the parchment upon his nightstand to be handed off tomorrow. Dimitri had been expecting more fuss, perhaps a riot or rebellion when he returned. Yet nothing of the sort happened. The people seemed excited to have him return, no matter how short the period was, and did not seem to hold his absence against him. 

He wondered if they knew why he was gone for so long, did they know what had happened to Byleth? Word undoubtedly got out to some point, Byleth was the Archbishop afterall. He wondered if they worried for him too. 

Of course they would. 

Dimitri rubbed his forehead as he laid down, eyepatch set aside next to the scroll. It’d been a long week of meetings, speeches, and paperwork. His only time alone had been when he retired to his quarters to sleep. Even that had been interrupted twice by someone fetching him for an important meeting or delivery of a document. 

He was damn tired. 

It did not help that without Byleth’s presence to calm him when the nightmares hit, sleeping had been something he scarcely enjoyed the past week. Byleth didn't stop the nightmares, he never had, but it was easier to come down from the panic when he wasn't alone. He did not know if perhaps simply sleeping alone was the issue, but he was not about to test it. The last thing he needed was for a servant to stumble in on him sharing a bed with Dedue, or another close friend. 

Oh the rumors  _ that _ would spark.

Him marrying a man to begin with was already quite the scandal. While no one had challenged him fully on the matter, he knew damn well he was among, if not  _ the _ first, King to take a husband instead of a wife. In truth, it was probably Byleth’s position as Archbishop that kept any serious pushback away. 

Not that it would have stopped him, regardless.

He knew sleeping would be an overall pointless endeavor now, yet, he owed it to himself to at least try. Even a couple hours would be better than nothing, he reasoned.

When the sun eventually shone through the stained glass windows of his room, Dimitri rose and prepared for the journey back.

* * *

“You’ve been on edge, Dimitri.”

Dimitri sighed, he honestly was surprised it had taken Dedue so long to comment on it. He had been rather short with a select few of his advisors in the last meeting held before their departure. No one commented, though undoubtedly they took note of his sour mood.

“Yes,” He admitted, “I have been. Forgive me if I’ve been curt with you, my friend. You have been nothing but supportive.”

Dedue snorted, “ _ Please, _ you know very well what I am asking.”

Dimitri was glad it was just the two of them on the journey back. They could speak far more openly than if knights had insisted on coming along. Perhaps no one pressed the issue because of his irritable mood.

Indech had left three days prior to them, he had been summoned back to the Monastery. Dimitri would have accompanied him, if not for the final counsel he needed to attend.

“I do,” Dimitri leant back in his saddle, “I am sure you can guess it involves Byleth.”

“Yes.”

Dimitri considered how much he would tell Dedue, how much he  _ could _ tell Dedue. The man already knew more than most, hell, he was present when they spoke of bringing Byleth to the village. At this point, Dimitri figured informing him of the full truth would surely be fine.

“Byleth is dying, he… Only has a few years left in his life, at most,” Dimitri furrowed his brows, “In not so many words, Byleth is both human and Nabatean. Because of this, his body cannot physically handle the magic from his Nabatean side. It is killing him, and apparently, has been for quite some time.”

“Has he been in such pain long?”

“Longer than I think you or I could know.”

Dedue grunted, so Dimitri continued.

“There is a ritual that will allow him to become a Nabatean, or a human, fully. It was…  _ Decided _ that he would be Nabatean. As their people are dying, and he is their last hope. I do not know, or understand, the details of such. Only that they made the choice for him, and Byleth isn't taking it well.”

Dedue was silent. When Dimitri glanced at him, the man appeared to be in deep thought. Out of anyone, Dimitri realized, Dedue would be able to sympathise with the Nabatean’s plight. He understood what it was like to see their people die before their eyes, and be helpless to stop them. He wondered what Dedue thought of the situation.

“Selfish,” Dedue spat. He made no further immediate comments, and given how irritated he seemed to be, Dimitri decided perhaps it was best to not push the situation further. 

He wondered though, who was selfish? Was it Byleth, or Rhea?

To his surprise, after a few terse moments passed between them, Dedue continued, “Byleth had nothing to do with their plight. Protect and care for your own, they shouldn't be dragging him into their mess. I know not the troubles they face, however, I find it hard to believe one man would save their  _ entire _ people.”

“Their home is in the sky, Byleth apparently is the only one that could keep it afloat indefinitely. The current Matriarch is being drained of her own life, keeping them up there,” Dimitri explained.

“Why lift the whole land up?” Dedue frowned, “Surely they could have found a better solution than that.”

Dimitri shrugged. He did not know why they had risen the land up to create their home. Perhaps it was a desperate attempt to keep away from all humans, perhaps there was a different reason. Truthfully, he doubted he’d ever learn, and frankly, he did not care. 

“Will Byleth go through with it?”

Dimitri nodded, “From what he told me, he plans to. I believe his feelings toward the matter are complicated, and I admittedly, can understand why.”

Dedue hummed, “Yes, as can I.”

A more comfortable silence settled between the pair as they rode their steeds through the rolling valleys before they reached the rougher terrain that surrounded Garreg Mach. The sun was well past its peak, beginning to set. They’d likely set up camp again soon, one more day of travel and he’d be by his Beloved’s side once more.

“Let us take shelter by the far stream for the night.”

Dimitri steered Juniper Axe left toward the water Dedue gestured to.

One more night left.

* * *

Late afternoon rolled around by the time he and Dedue trotted through the Monastery's main gate. A fair bit later than Dimitri would have preferred, but Dedue had him eat before they rode again. 

Dimitri did not bother sending for a monk or servant to fetch Byleth, he could find the man himself if needed. Though he imagined by the time he had Juniper Axe settled down in his stall, Byleth would have found him already. Nothing happened in the monastery without his knowledge, Dimitri noticed.

Yet, when both he and Dedue had cared for their steeds, Byleth had not arrived. Perhaps he was eating? 

Dimitri did not feel alarmed, yet, his love could be quite focused when it came to his meals. Or, he once had been. Perhaps this was a sign of his appetite coming back in full. The mess hall was full of people, though none bared the green hair he searched for. Was he in his room?

Dimitri tried there next.

He received a few nods and greetings as he trotted through the courtyard, and up the stairs to the third floor. Yet none surprised him as much as passing Rhea on the third flight of stairs. 

She seemed startled to see him, and carried an empty plate of food in her hands. He pointedly did not acknowledge her past a curt nod. What had she been doing on the third floor? Had she been harassing Byleth again?

He would not tolerate any further torment against the man, he already was putting up with  _ far _ too much.

The door to their room was closed, Dimitri hesitated at the heavy oak. He knocked, unsure what sort of mood Byleth would be in, if Rhea had been harassing the man. At no response, Dimitri cracked open the door to peer inside. He did a cursory glance around the room, and eventually laid his eyes on Byleth, perched on a chair before the marble fireplace in the far end of the room.

He seemed unharmed, as far as Dimitri could tell, though certainly irritated. 

The fireplace wasn't lit, Byleth was just scowling at the charred logs perched upon the andrion. Dimitri did not recall ever lighting the fire whilst he resided with Byleth, so he figured he must have done it himself sometime during the week.

Dimitri knocked on the door again, Byleth’s ears swiveled, though his eyes eventually left the logs he had been so intently staring at. The moment their eyes met, Byleth lit up and scrambled from the chair. That was as much permission as any to enter the room, Dimitri figured. 

He kicked the door shut with his heel and opened his arms just in time for Byleth to bury himself against his chest. Dimitri rested his arms loosely around his shoulders when Byleth pulled him closer by a firm grip on his waist.

“I’ve missed you too, my Beloved,” Dimitri chuckled into Byleth’s hair. 

Byleth spoke into the metal of Dimitri’s armor, but the words were lost to incoherent mumbles. Dimitri brushed stray hair from Byleth’s forehead, spurring him to glance up to meet his eye. His chin pressed firmly against the white metal of his breastplate, something Dimitri couldn't imagine to be particularly comfortable. Still, Byleth was content and Dimitri wouldn't move him until Byleth showed actual signs of discomfort.

In the end, Dimitri was the one who broke first. He had been wearing the armor the entire trip, and grew quite tired of donning it. Especially in a place he knew to be safe.

“Give me a moment to get out of my armor,” Dimitri requested with a quick peck to Byleth’s forehead.

Byleth nodded and released his grip on the man, and took to perching on the foot of the bed.

“How was Fhirdiad?” Byleth inquired, “Were there any troubles?”

“It went well, actually. No riots, or discontent. In fact, it was quite pleasant, all things considered. Quite a lot of paperwork, meetings, and some small gatherings to entertain the local nobility, but nothing terribly exciting in truth.”

“Good.”

Dimitri slung his cloak over the back of the chair at their desk, and unlatched the buckles keeping his shoulderplates on. Byleth was silent. Far from unusual for the man, yet there was something in the air that Dimitri couldn't pinpoint. 

Byleth seemed stressed, or upset?

His worry of Rhea harassing him must have been accurate.

“Byleth?”

The man brought his gaze from the carpet to Dimitri.

“Are you alright?”

Byleth tilted his head, then nodded, “I am in no more pain than I have been. It hasn't gotten worse, and I can eat more than I had.”

“That… Isn't what I meant,” Dimitri wracked his brain for how to phrase his concerns, “I meant emotionally? You've been… You have had quite a lot dumped upon your shoulders as of late.”

Byleth shrugged.

“I passed Rhea when I was coming to greet you, she hasn't been harassing you, has she?”

Byleth snorted, “Depends on what you consider harassment.”

Dimitri slid his gauntlets off, “What did she do?”

“She refuses to let me feed myself, much less leave the damn room without a chaperone,” Byleth groused, “She thinks she’s helping me. Making me  _ conserve _ all my energy for the ritual. shit, she won't even let me  _ bathe _ myself.”

That explained the empty plate Rhea had been carrying, Dimitri recalled. Then, after processing what he had been told in full, the anger set in. 

He set the gauntlet down with a fair bit more force than necessary, “I will have a talk with her, then. If her actions are making you uncomfortable, that is not something I will allow to happen any longer. No matter her intentions.”

Byleth grunted, though made no further comment.

Dimitri’s brows furrowed, but was quick to shuck off the rest of his armor before he took his place beside Byleth on the bed. 

“Have you learned anything else from the ritual?” Dimitri inquired, then added, softer, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Byleth fiddled with the hem of the simple black shirt he wore, “I know the process of the ritual now, and the risks involved.”

“Risks?”

Dimitri was patient while Byleth sought out how to word his thoughts. They troubled him, clearly, and that alone had Dimitri at half a mind to just pull his armor back on and whisk Byleth back to Fhirdiad, away from Rhea.   


“The ritual has a… High chance of ending with my death.”

_ It  _ **_what?_ **

He knew it’d likely be unpleasant for Byleth, even a bit risky from what little he learned from Indech. But having a high chance of fatality? That was not something Dimitri was aware of. 

Much less  _ okay _ with.

“In order to become a Nabatean, they must kill my human form, and force the crest stone to ‘remake’ me. So, they will kill me, and hope Sothis’ crest stone will be strong enough to bring me back to life. However, given my current health, there is a rather high chance that I simply will be too weak, and therefore die.”

Byleth already had  _ everything _ decided for him, the last thing Dimitri wanted to do was to speak over his own desires, or to shovel his own wants onto Byleth’s hands. 

Yet… What thought did they have for Byleth’s own wants or needs? His own autonomy? 

“That's ridiculous. Byleth, you don't have to do a damn thing for them. Say the world and I will bring you back to Fhirdiad.”

Byleth frowned at him, then averted his gaze forward.

“You don't owe them anything, Byleth,” Dimitri reiterated, still to no response.

He pulled a hand down his face, and supported himself with a forearm over his thigh, “Byleth, I… I cannot read your mind. Please, tell me what you are thinking.”

“I… Want to go through with it.”

That, admittedly, was not the response he had expected. He wanted to do the ritual? Even despite his previous frustrations, and lack of desire to before? What had changed his mind?

“You…  _ Want _ to do it, or do you feel obligated to?”

Byleth side-eyed him, then returned his gaze to the wall, “Is there a difference?”

“Of course there is!” Dimitri stood, “Byleth, why would you desire to go through with such a dangerous act? Why would you choose likely death, over becoming human? Do you truly feel so indebted to them?”

“Dimitri, I am dying regardless. The choice is simply to have a  _ chance _ to die now, or to live a bit longer with assured death. The ritual to become human is no different in the end. Both may very well end in my death.”

He… Had nothing to say to that. He didn't want to lose Byleth. Not now. 

“Yes… I know. I know, and I  _ do _ understand Byleth. I just… Why this? What made you decide this path?”

“I am living on borrowed time,” Byleth shrugged, “I always had been. The life I live? It's not mine, you know that as well as I. Becoming a Nabatean… My heart could beat. The crest stone inside me would be  _ mine. _ I’d be real.”

Dimitri was sure he looked no different than a gaping fish, freshly caught to be cooked. He knew Byleth was self-conscious of his lack of heartbeat, he had known that since he first discovered it. He knew it was not a worry that would disappear overnight. Of course it wouldn't be. His own insecurities far from left his own mind.

Yet in the light of everything else, it had been pushed to the back of his mind. Something important, but not important enough to check in on throughout the last few months.

_ Of course _ he still would harbor those thoughts.

Dimitri hesitated, then sat beside Byleth again, “You are real, Byleth. You have been from the start.”

“That does not change that the life I live is not mine. Never should have been. One way or another, I’d have to give it back eventually.”

“That is absurd,” Dimitri snapped, “Rhea’s actions were her own. You are your own man, Byleth. You owe your life to nobody, not me, not Rhea, not even the damn Goddess herself. She may have given you life, but just as a child does not belong to their parents, you do not belong to Rhea.”

Byleth fisted his own shirt, over his heart, “ _ As long as our hearts still beat, I’ll love you. _ ”

Dimitri furrowed his brows, such words sounded strange from Byleth’s mouth. Not something that man would ever speak, certainly not with his reservations about his own— Oh. Dimitri recognized the words he had pledged to Byleth, words said a lifetime ago, it felt. Before he knew what Byleth was, or of his condition.

Back when he had selfishly and stubbornly refused to read Jeralt’s diary. 

Guilt gnawed at his chest, “Byleth… It is only a saying, I did not know then what I do now, it was carel—”

“No.”

Dimitri furrowed his brows, though he fell silent whilst he waited for Byleth to elaborate.

“It is often said one without a heart, has no emotions.”

Dimitri opened his mouth to retort, Byleth  _ did _ have a heart. It just didn't beat, that’s different. Byleth held a hand up and cut him off.

“Love is tied to the heart, all emotions are, are they not? I have a glorified  _ rock _ in my chest. How… How can you love someone, that might not even be  _ capable _ of loving you back? Why would you waste your time with such a person?”

Dimitri was at a loss. He did not even know how to begin responding to such thoughts, such ideas. Familiar anger bubbled in his gut. Had it been anyone else speaking of Byleth in such a vile, cruel way, he would have broken their jaw.

Yet what could he do, what could he say? When the one saying such horrid things about him, was Byleth himself?

Dimitri grabbed the hand Byleth had held up, and fought to keep his voice steady, “You are capable of love, just as any emotion.”

Byleth did not meet his eye, so Dimitri continued, his voice cracking despite himself.

“You are angry when others wrong people close to you, you grieve those you’ve lost. You have worked tirelessly to support your friends, you sacrificed your time, your blood, your everything to protect those close to you! You’d throw away your life in an instant, if it meant you could spare someone you cared for pain. If  _ that _ is not love, I know not what is.”

Byleth’s brows furrowed.

“How  **dare** you even insinuate you are incapable of love! After all you have done for others. All you have done for  _ me. _ You brought me back from the brink of madness, Byleth! You remained by my side, you cared for my wounds, you listened to my deranged ramblings. Not fucking once did you turn your back on me,” Dimitri pressed a hand to his good eye, his voice wavered, “You saved me, Byleth. It is because of you, that I am here today.”

Dimitri drew in a sharp breath and steadied himself. Once his emotions felt less prone to explode, he spoke again, “Byleth, you do not have to label your feelings as love, if that is not the right word for you. Yet the actions you’ve taken, the way you light up when someone you care for approaches you, it speaks of nothing  _ but _ love. Don't for a second think that just because your heart doesn't beat, that you are incapable of caring for others. You have more compassion in your finger than any other person I’ve met’s entire body.”

Byleth was still silent, though his grip on Dimitri’s hand tightened. Dimitri could tell by now when Byleth was playing indifferent. Keeping expressions from showing on a face, pretending to have an air of neutrality.

But it was just that. 

Pretending.

Dimitri intertwined their fingers, and spoke again, this time softer, “You subjected yourself to nearly three months of torture, so Flayn and Seteth could escape and be free. So they could live to see another day.”

He brought Byleth’s hand to his lips and kissed the inside of his wrist, “You are not emotionless, you never have been. But, you already knew that.”

Dimitri was unsure if it was the action or the words that got Byleth, but sure enough, his mask cracked. While he still wouldn't meet Dimitri’s eye, the neutral expression was gone. Replaced with one of pain. His lip sucked between his teeth, and glossy eyes were just threatening to spill over at a moment’s notice.

Dimitri wanted to gather Byleth up in his arms and never let go. Never let such horrid thoughts make their home in his Love’s mind again. Yet things were never that simple, and he knew not if Byleth would accept physical affection now.

“...Thank you,” Byleth croaked, voice hoarse as he tried in vain to keep himself from sobbing openly.

Dimitri moved slowly, so Byleth could pull away or refuse if he desired to, when he reached around to bring Byleth into a close embrace. He guided his head to rest in the crook between his shoulder and neck, and let his own fall upon the pale green locks. Byleth’s strangled, aborted, sobs broke Dimitri’s heart. 

He didn't speak, just existed there, rubbing gentle circles between Byleth’s shoulder blades. Dimitri closed his eye and just held the man until the violent shaking of his shoulders calmed, and the hiccuping breaths evened out.

When he felt Byleth to be calm enough, he lifted his chin from the crown of Byleth’s head, and leant to the side to try and gauge Byleth’s expression. The man grunted at the movement, but pulled back to meet Dimitri’s gaze.

“Want something to drink?”

Byleth wrinkled his nose, and Dimitri laughed. 

“I’ll take that as a no, then.”

Byleth drew back and flopped down onto the bed. He still seemed troubled though, but Dimitri imagined such thoughts would take a long time to go away. Dimitri joined him and laid beside Byleth, their shoulders brushed. He stared up at the canopy above the bed, simply enjoying Byleth’s presence for the time being.

“There is much that will have to be gone over, regarding the ritual.”

Dimitri turned to face Byleth’s now even voice.

“Such as?”

“Physical changes, dietary ones… If I survive, I will not be human and it will take some time to adjust, undoubtedly.”

Dimitri nodded, “Answer me this, then. If you genuinely want to go through with the ritual, know that I will support you, Byleth. You can make your own choices, and I will be there for you every step of the way, I promise. However, I need to know that this is what you want, and you aren't being coerced into doing Rhea’s bidding.”

Byleth closed his eyes, “It is complicated.”

“I will listen, if you wish to think aloud.”

“I do not fear death, haven't for a long time, but I do fear for those I’d leave behind.”

Dimitri understood the sentiment.

“Seteth told me more of the Nabatean’s plight, they would die long before the island would risk falling. The people are starving, and are wracked with illness from their isolation. Seteth believes that I could bring about an era where Nabateans could live among humans again.”

Dimitri propped himself up on his elbow, “Could Rhea not have done the same?”

“I asked such, but he believes it would go smoother if I did. Rhea is not as universally liked, as many seem to believe.”

He stifled a snort, that was an understatement.

“Truthfully, I do not care much what happens to them, outside of worrying for Seteth’s sake. My desire comes from simply wanting to feel alive. Should the ritual go as planned, I would no longer be in pain, my heart would beat… I feel as though I’d be real, then.”

“Byleth…”

“Yes, yes, I know.”

Dimitri brushed hair from Byleth’s eyes when they opened to stare at him, and sighed, “Byleth, such feelings do not simply go away because you or I wish it, I know. However, becoming Nabatean may not ‘fix’ those feelings either.”

“Perhaps,” Byleth pressed his face further against Dimitri’s palm, “I may never truly see myself as real. I do understand that, but, I like to think perhaps it would help.”

“Maybe,” Dimitri conceded, “But do you truly wish to go to such an extreme?”

“I already agreed to go through with it.”

“That is not what I’m asking.”

Byleth grunted, “I know. I do not have the answer you want, though. I am unsure myself, I have my reservations, but I also see the benefit should the ritual succeed, not only for myself, but for the Nabateans as a whole.”

“They are placing too much pressure on you. You are not responsible for saving their kind.”

“No more than you would be, for your own people,” Byleth shrugged.

Dimitri pulled back, “Byleth I was raised to be a King, it’s different. They  _ are _ my people.”

“It comes down to genetics, correct? By such logic, taking over the Nabateans is no different than you doing the same with your own.”

He wanted to argue, but he couldn't really find the right way to do so without being hypocritical. So, he tried to spin it a different way.

“If I said tomorrow I forfeited my crown, and decided to no longer be King, would you support me?”

Byleth’s eyes narrowed at him, sizing him up, before answering, “Yes.”

“I have chosen to be King, I  _ chose _ to rule over my people. You were not given that choice.”

“Being told over and over that your people needed you, doesn't sound like a choice.”

“Perhaps not, but it is something that I still desire to do. I want to be a good King, and I want to keep those I care for safe.”

Byleth inclined his head a bit, then, “I will go through with the ritual.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” Byleth’s nod was firm, “Before it happens, though, I have a request.”

“Anything.”

Byleth held himself up with his forearm, capturing Dimitri’s full gaze, “I want to be married before then. If… I die, I want to die as your husband.”

No words could describe the swirling emotions battling in Dimitri’s stomach. Joy, terror, sadness, excitement, all emotions he could think of coiled and twisted in his gut. He was so elated Byleth  _ wanted _ to get married, yet the implications of his desire horrified him. 

Dimitri didn't want to lose Byleth. Not so soon, not ever, really.

He brushed pale green behind a delicately pointed ear, “Then it will be done, my Beloved.”

There would be much to prepare. 

* * *

Three days before the ritual.

That was when the wedding would be held, Dimitri decided. Byleth stated they could have it at any point before the ritual, yet with the date drawing so dangerously near now, they were left with precious few days to plan. 

It would be a small, simple ceremony. Something he knew Byleth would have wanted anyway, though now it was out of necessity, than desire. Byleth wrote the invitations, while Dimitri planned the scheduling. He had wanted to get a proper ring crafted for Byleth, yet with under two weeks to spare, he was unsure if he’d be able to find a smith that could craft the two of their rings.

Still, he’d reach out to Fhirdiad and Enbarr, to see what craftsmen were available to work.

Then there was food, a banquet, things he scarcely would have the time to organize. If at all. 

Dimitri scratched his chin, the shadow of stubble itched terribly, but he wanted to make sure things were set in order before he could be bothered to shave. The event may be last minute, but Dimitri was going to make damn sure the wedding would be as perfect as it could. 

“They will know,” Dedue spoke from his side, where he was organizing documents as Dimitri wrote them, “With the sudden rush to be wed.”

“They have a right to know, frankly,” Dimitri grunted, “I do not doubt if anyone were to question Byleth, he would speak the truth.”

“Will this reflect poorly on your marriage politically?”

Dimitri shrugged, “Irina mentioned us needing to move the process along anyway, folk were talking. As they do.”

Dedue snorted a laugh, “Unsurprising.”

“My only concern is that some of our friends may be unable to make it,” Dimitri massaged his temples, “Brigid and Almyra are far from close, Claude and Petra no doubt have their own obligations.”

“True, though should it come to that, be sure not to mistake their absence for lack of support.”

“I know, I just… I am happy to be getting married, truly. I only wish it were under less dire circumstances.”

“Yes, as do I,” Dedue sealed off the request for a craftsman to Enbarr, “Byleth is strong, Dimitri. The risks may be high, but I do not doubt Byleth will pull through. If nothing else, the man is far too stubborn to have finished his life quite yet.”

Dimitri chuckled, “I pray you are right, my friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhohhoho we goin places now! 
> 
> I loved reading all of your comments on the last chapter! I'm so happy you folks want to see where this goes. I am very excited to finish the coming chapters, and I hope you all enjoy the coming ride! 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I can't wait to see what ya'll think will be happening in the next chapters.
> 
> Then of course, as usual, here is my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/vulturepops)


	23. Weddings and Rituals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude nodded, “I can tell. I guess that has something to do with the last minute wedding?”
> 
> “Astute as ever, Claude.”
> 
> The man sorted, something Dimitri imagined would have been a laugh in any other circumstances, if any words came from his mouth other than, “He’s dying, isn't he?”

“Your Majesty?”

Dimitri lifted his head toward the voice calling to him, where Ingrid stood in the doorframe. He offered her a small smile, then returned most of his attention to the paperwork before him, “What can I do for you?”

“You are getting married to His Grace in just _two_ weeks?”

Ah, she must have noticed the letter addressed to her from the pile he had asked her to send out with her couriers. He nodded and set his quill aside on a strip of scrap paper, “Yes.”

Her brows furrowed, “Forgive me if this is too invasive a question, but… Why so sudden?”

He had expected such questions, he surely would get more as the letters were delivered to their destinations. Dimitri had not approached the topic with Byleth, yet. As such he wasn't sure what Byleth would have been comfortable with the others knowing. Would he care if they knew he was dying? Or may very well die after their wedding?

It ultimately was not his information to share, so he leant back against the chair at their desk with a sigh, “I… Do not know if the reason is something Byleth wants known or not.”

That only seemed to worry her further, but she didn't question him past that. She bowed, then adjusted the bag slung across her shoulders, “Very well. I will make sure the other invitations are delivered with utmost priority.”

With that she left the room, closing it softly behind her with a gentle click. Dimitri stared at the door for a moment, then brought his attention back to the current paper he was drafting. It was a formality, one that was in all likelihood unnecessary, but Dimitri did not feel right taking advantage of the system.

If he wished to host a banquet at Garreg Mach, he needed the proper permission first.

Byleth _had_ taken many of his previous duties back, though from what Dimitri could tell, still relied pretty heavily on Seteth’s support. Dimitri wished there was more he could do, but he knew precious little of the responsibilities placed upon the Archbishop’s shoulders, past the religious aspects of the position. While he had a feeling Byleth would refuse any offers of help from him, Dimitri decided he should at the _very least_ lay the potential out for him.

Dimitri would finish writing the request for space later, he hadn't seen Byleth since they parted after breakfast. It was just past the time most would consider eating lunch, or at least grabbing a small bite to eat, and Dimitri wanted to be sure Rhea was leaving Byleth alone.

He tossed on his paltock and trotted down the stairs.

The audience chamber was fairly quiet. It usually was, in all fairness. Only a couple monks or guards tended to stick around longer than a chat with Byleth. Dimitri couldn't fully see into the office tucked between the pillars to his left. Though, given Emile was standing post outside the room, he wagered Byleth was still in there.

Emile nodded at him as he walked past, an action Dimitri was quick to return.

He still did not feel anywhere near at ease with the man, but he fully knew that was a problem with him, not Emile.

“What happened to conserving your energy, Archbishop?” Seteth drawled.

When Dimitri walked in, the man tossed his hands up with an exasperated sigh, “Your Majesty, _do_ try to talk some sense into your fiancé, he is being foolish.”

Byleth scoffed from the writing desk he was perched in.

“Archbishop Byleth is refusing to keep a light schedule.”

Dimitri snorted a laugh and approached Byleth, the man held up the paper he had been working on whilst ignoring Seteth. He accepted the parchment and read through it, a list of things needing to get sorted before the ritual took place. Dimitri furrowed his brows, while far from constructed in such a way, the items on the list… It seemed to be something of a will, instead of a schedule.

Much of it was assuring his former students would be cared for, making sure to finish paperwork that would sign his duties over to Seteth, writing a rule on how the monastery would be governed when he was gone… Did Byleth _expect_ to die?

It was a lot.

“Do you anticipate things going poorly?” He asked Byleth instead, handing the paper back.

Seteth sucked in a sharp breath from where he stood by the small podium, Dimitri wondered if Seteth had yet to realize _why_ Byleth found it so imperative such things got done. Perhaps he only saw the list of items to be accomplished, and worried he’d push himself.

Byleth frowned, “I do not know. However, poor preparation is not an option here, I must be sure everything will be taken care of.”

Dimitri didn't like it. There was so much on the list, some could very well be physically taxing, especially if he tried to partake in any of the renovations he sought to start. He rested a hand on Byleth’s shoulder, thin fingers reached up to intertwine with his own. Byleth was an adult, Dimitri would not be one of the people telling him what he should, shouldn't, could or couldn't do.

Instead, “What can I assist you with?”

“You already have your hands quite full with the wedding planning,” Byleth stated, and pulled his quill from the ink it had resided in, adding yet another item to the list.

“Short of perhaps another document or two, much of what I’ll be doing is waiting for responses.”

Byleth tilted his head, considering, then nodded, “Very well, to get Seteth off my back” The man in question snorted, “It would be of great assistance if you were to help with the more demanding things needing to be finished.”

Dimitri leant down and kissed his cheek, a low rumble briefly met him, then disappeared as soon as Byleth seemed to realize he had made the sound. As tempting as it was, Dimitri decided not to comment. Perhaps he could ask Byleth more about the ‘purring’ later.

“Of course, I’d be happy to help.”

“Thank you.”

Byleth pulled a blank sheet of parchment and began scribbling on it. His chickenstracth was barely legible, Dimitri hoped he was not the one intended to decipher it. Luckily, he motioned for Seteth to come over instead, once he finished, and handed the short paragraph to him.

Seteth furrowed his brows, sighed, then spoke while he pocketed the paperwork, “Alright, fine. We will hold the meeting after you get something to eat.”

He left the room without further trouble.

“What was that for?”

“It is about the Officer’s Academy, I am requesting for its location to be moved south to the school you are building in Enbarr. It will be discussed here first, then if it is decided to be beneficial, I will contact Enbarr for the request. Should that go through, I would discuss the matter with you, then the professors and caretakers for the school will be transported south once construction is completed.”

“Seteth is displeased by the notion?”

“The academy had _always_ been here,” Byleth explained, “He dislikes change in general, I think.”

Dimitri could relate to that.

“Why move it south?” He asked, “Would that not be a bit inconvenient?”

Byleth shrugged, “Garregg Mach has proved itself to be unsafe should there ever be an attack. Enbarr has held up far better as a whole. It is also surrounded by more people, and would do well for growing kids to learn more economics and politics in a location with more people.”

Dimitri hadn't considered that.

“Besides, all of Fódlan is under your rule now, yes? There is no need to host the Academy in what previously had been a territorial middleground.”

“Well, yes, that is correct I suppose. Still, why now?”

Byleth shrugged, “Seteth would have kept the academy here, I do not want that. So I am handling it now.”

Dimitri leant down to rest his forehead utop his Beloved’s head. While not outright speaking it, Dimitri feared Byleth fully expected to die at the ritual. It was supposed to only be a _chance_ of his death, not guaranteed. Did he not think himself strong enough?

A gloved hand patted the back of his neck, “Dima.”

“Yes, Beloved?”

“You are worried.”

Dimitri chucked into his hair, “Yes, I am. I fear you’ve already decided your fate.”

Byleth exhaled sharply, the hair he buried his face in moved slightly from Byleth’s ears swiveling back. The hand resting on his neck curled in, becoming something more akin to a firm hold than a gentle gesture.

Was he angry?

“I do not plan to perish easily, however, I know the risks. If the worst comes to pass, I will not be caught unprepared. Too many depend on me now, I will not let them down, nor leave things to revert back to how they had been,” He grunted, “Worked too fucking hard.”

Dimitri laughed, and Byleth released him to lean back in the chair to meet his eye. After a moment of giggling, Dimitri bent down to place a chaste kiss upon his lips. The angle was a bit awkward, but it did not seem to bother Byleth.

When he pulled back, Dimitri stroked a hand along Byleth’s cheek. He leant into the touch with a hum.

“Let us get some food, then.”

“Very well.”

Dimitri pulled the chair out for him to stand. Instead of doing just that, Byleth shot him a withering look instead, an expression that took him by surprise. Did he do something wrong?

Then it clicked.

“Being polite,” He assured, “Not infantilizing you, I swear it.”

Byleth stared at him for a moment, then relaxed and nodded. Though, Byleth frowned even still. Dimitri couldn't quite tell what the man was feeling, as he moved back to give him room to stand.

“Sorry,” Byleth grunted, “I should not have assumed the worst of you, I know better.”

Ah, he was guilty.

Dimitri stepped close and brought Byleth’s head in with a gentle hand, he pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, “It is quite alright, you have been treated as a helpless child quite often as of late, I do not blame you for being guarded.”

Byleth opened his mouth to undoubtedly protest, but Dimitri cut him off with a swift peck.

“Come.”

Dimitri gestured to the open door, and Byleth followed behind. Curiously, Emile was no longer standing guard as they exited into the main audience chamber, Dimitri wondered why. He hoped the man did not leave because of him. Had he been able to sense Dimitri’s still very present discomfort around him?

He must have been staring at the empty spot for a bit too long, as Byleth nudged his arm and spoke up, “He likely went to retrieve food himself.”

“Was he not standing guard?”

“Yes. He usually would walk me back to our room, however with you present, I doubt he felt the need.”

Dimitri was unarmed, if someone were to attack, then what? Sure, he and Byleth were _more_ than capable of fending for themselves, armed or not, but still. It was the principle that irked him. Or, perhaps it was his bias. Emile likely knew Byleth was perfectly able to fend for himself, and was simply standing guard out of courtesy. That, or as Byleth had mentioned, was merely playing a chaperone to allow Byleth to leave the bedroom.

“You do not like him,” Byleth commented while he strode past Dimitri, taking the lead to the stairs.

Dimitri was quick to assure Byleth, “No, no. Nothing of the sort. I know he is a valued friend of yours.”

Byleth rose a brow, “You do not have to be close to everyone you cross paths with, Dimitri. Much less like them.”

“I know, however, any ill will I might bear toward the man is _my_ problem, and has nothing to do with him.”

Byleth pondered his words for a moment, then shrugged and descended the stairs proper, Dimitri on his heels. He was surprised Byleth was going straight to the mess hall, instead of changing into more comfortable attire. While never blatantly speaking it aloud, as far as Dimitri was aware, he was quite uncomfortable in his Archbishop attire.

The collar stood too high and blocked much of his peripheral vision, and overall was quite heavy. He knew it frequently set him on edge, simply for the dulled senses alone. Though he was quite aware how decorated and _‘flashy’_ it was (his words, not Dimitri’s), irked him nearly as much.

“Will you not change first?” Dimitri inquired.

The courtyard was beautiful, a thin dusting of snow blanketed the area. The air had a bitter chill to it, common this time of year. A far cry from Fhaerghus, but rather cold nonetheless.

“No.”

“Why? If you like, I could at _least_ fetch your cloak, it is a bit chilly.”

“Rhea may be there.”

Ah. That explained a lot.

“To… Feed you, yes?”

Byleth nodded, a scowl set upon his brow. It was hard to tell if white curling from his slightly open mouth was smoke, or fog from his breaths.

After they finished, Dimitri planned to part ways and confront Rhea on his behavior. He would not allow this to continue, Byleth was doing so much for that woman already, the _least_ she could do was leave him alone.

The lunch rush had long since passed, leaving only a few sparse souls scattered between the various tables. Their eyes watched Byleth as though his presence were a new phenomenon, staring at him without shame. Even the cooks did double takes when Byleth accepted a plate of food.

The implication of their surprise was infuriating. He found his plate being taken from his hands before he shattered it. Byleth always had been good at noticing when his crest threatened to flare. Neither spoke, and Byleth led them outside, away from prying eyes, and back into the cold.

Dimitri took the lead when Byleth hesitated, and the two eventually found themselves in the greenhouse. It was still a touch cold, but significantly warmer than the air outside.

They sat on the cobblestone lining the gardens.

Dimitri accepted his plate back, and the two ate in relative silence.

Byleth’s plate was… Not empty, but hardly what he normally would have eaten. The man had been long renowned for having something of a second stomach for how much food he could guzzle down. Yet the single plate, moderately filled, was a deeply concerning far cry from the norm.

“Do you want me to fetch you another plate?” Dimitri inquired, balancing his own on his knees.

Byleth’s nose scrunched and he shook his head.

“Will that be enough to satisfy you?”

“I will not go hungry, Dimitri.”

Byleth finished what was on his plate, then set it aside.

“Byleth, are you feeling alright?” Dimitri inquired, placing his own empty dish to the side as well.

“Drop it,” Byleth said, “I am not going to starve myself.”

There was something wrong.

Dimitri _knew_ there was, yet he was conflicted. Byleth very clearly did not wish to speak on the matter, yet, Dimitri feared Byleth was suffering. The way his legs were brought up just a touch closer to his chest, the way he just barely curled in toward his core… It was subtle, but all too clear the man was distressed.

Dimitri was no better at delicate topics than he knew his Beloved was.

“Byleth, talk to me. Please.”

The man frowned, his eyes flicked to Dimitri, then back toward the blue forget-me-nots he had grown about a year ago, now. Dimitri wouldn't push, the last thing he wanted was to bring Byleth distress. Yet… If Byleth was depriving himself of something he needed, or enjoyed, Dimitri would not allow that to happen. He couldn't.

Finally, after what stretched on to feel like ages, Byleth spoke.

“I… Do not enjoy food anymore.”

In Dimitri’s mind, that could only mean one thing, “Y-you’ve lost your ability to taste?”

Byleth was swift to assure his panic, “No, nothing of the sort. Everything tastes as it had before.”

“Ah, well, good,” He fumbled with the words in his mouth, unsure how best to spit out the questions in his mind, “Then… Why?”

Byleth’s eyes darted away from him, to the door, then back to the flowers. He and Byleth were the only ones in the greenhouse. The air hung heavy and tense between them. Dimitri wanted to reach out and soothe the turmoil his Beloved must be carrying upon his shoulders.

He waited instead. Dimitri knew it would take time for Byleth to formulate the words he needed, so he simply sat there beside him. Dimitri hoped his presence was comforting.

“... When I was captured,” Byleth started, his voice strained, “Emile was the only one who brought me food, much less cleaned my wounds. Nemesis undoubtedly knew what he was doing, and allowed it. Just enough to keep me alive, but not enough to keep me from being weak.”

Dimitri’s knuckles popped from the strain of clenching his fists.

“I was severely dehydrated and couldn't produce much saliva, it made swallowing food difficult,” Byleth’s tongue darted out and licked his lips, Dimitri wondered if he was reliving the pain he had felt, “Sometimes, I could not swallow the food Emile would bring me. So it would simply sit there in my mouth, festering and rotting with little that could be done. Emile would try to bring water to wash away the food, but it did not always work. I’d have rotten flesh stuck between my teeth for days. The taste was… Horrid.”

That, he imagined, was an understatement. To have decaying food in your mouth stuck for days at a time… It was no wonder Byleth found food undesirable now.

“I… Imagine Rhea feeding you has not helped this.”

“No,” Byleth admitted, and scratched the nape of his neck, where pale hair met skin, “However, to what little credit I may grant her, she would not know that. It is not something I have told her, nor do I ever plan to.”

“Of course,” Dimitri lifted a hand to hover of Byleth’s, hesitant, then lowered it to rest utop the gloved hand, “Thank you for telling me.”

Byleth nodded, and intertwined their fingers. Dimitri was unsure how he could help Byleth recover from such trauma. He hoped time would one day allow Byleth to enjoy food once more.

* * *

Rhea was hard to track down. While he had not initially believed it, the longer it took for him to track the woman down, the more likely it seemed for her to be actively avoiding him.

“Oh, Lady Rhea? She is out right now. She left with Seteth to visit a nearby town. You just missed them, Your Majesty.”

Dimitri bit back a sigh, but thanked the Gatekeeper nonetheless. The man would have had no way of knowing Dimitri was searching for her, so his frustrations would be horribly misplaced were he to snap at him. No matter how irritated he had grown.

_She was a damn coward._

He thanked the man, and turned on his heel to retreat to his and Byleth’s shared room. He had paperwork to finish, but it infuriated him to no small end that Rhea had taken to avoiding him.

Dimitri shrugged off his cloak upon shouldering open the heavy wood, and closed the door behind him. Byleth occupied their desk, reading over a pile of parchments. Dimitri swooped down to press a kiss to his head, and hung his cloak up in their closet.

“I take by your stomping around, you did not locate Rhea?”

“... W-was I stomping?”

Byleth laughed, a soft breathless sound, “Yes, you were also breathing heavier.”

Dimiri had not noticed such details before. He felt a little out of breath, but he had presumed walking up three flights of stairs donning a heavy fur cape had done it. He wondered if it was annoying. Yet, Byleth did not seem to be troubled by his irritation at all, and simply signed and sealed off another scroll to be tossed into a basket Byleth placed beside their lacquer desk.

“Would you like me to bring those down to the post?”

Byleth shook his head, “Not yet, allow me to finish these first.”

Dimitri dropped himself into one of the chairs beside the unlit fireplace. He grabbed a book that had been left on a small end table between it and the other chair. Dimitri flipped it over and inspected the delitate leatherwork on it.

“Seteth gave it to me,” Byleth explained, “It is a collection of legends about Nabateans.”

When Dimitri opened the book, he was surprised it had not been written in Nabatean.

“Rhea banned all books about her people, hid them away somewhere. Seteth said it was written by a human that was apparently once a good friend to his people. It is a collection of stories the human had been told.”

“Are the stories true?”

“I am unsure, and Seteth could not remember that far back. Very possible it could have been written before his time.”

The book was in gorgeous condition, despite its age.

“May I?”

Byleth glanced up from his paperwork and nodded, “Of course.”

* * *

Dimitri was surprised Ignatz and Rapheal were the first to show up, only a mere two days after the letters were sent. Raphael brought his sister, it was the first time meeting the young lady, as far as Dimitri could recall.

“We were actually packed up already when the letter arrived,” Ignatz explained, “We had planned to go south for some trading anyway, so we figured to just come here instead.”

Byleth frowned, “You did not have to forsake your opportunity to come.”

Raphael laughed and threw an arm over Byleth’s shoulders, “Nonsense Professor! It's not everyday someone in our friend group gets married! That’s _way_ more important! Though… You could have stood to give us a bit more of a warning.”

“The letter probably got lost in the mail,” Ignaz waved his friend off, “Regardless, I am glad to have made it in time!”

Dimitri was unsure what to say. Should he correct them? He glanced at Byleth and the man seemed to have his own reservations on correcting them. Byleth had always been very open about what he is to the others, Dimitri wondered why that would have changed now.

“We just sent them out,” Byleth eventually corrected, after a terse silence settled in the air.

Ignaz frowned, “But why? I am not so sure our friends would be able to make it in such a short notice.”

Instead of speaking the truth, Byleth simply shrugged as best he could under Rapheal’s arm, “I am impatient.”

Dimitri doubted Ignatz believed that excuse, but he did not question it. Byleth simply turned on his heel and once he ducked under the arm around him, led the trio off to where they’d reside for the night. Dimitri followed quietly behind.

Surely they would deserve to know as much as Dimitri did, right?

Byleth had once been their professor, he kept in touch with all of them, maintaining close relationships no matter the distance. Why would he keep this a secret from them?

It did not sit well with Dimitri.

Perhaps Byleth was simply waiting until after everyone showed up, so as to only explain everything once.

Dimitri hoped that was the case.

While it was not his knowledge to share, Dimitri couldn't just let their friends part ways with him, not knowing it could very well be the last they’d see him. For now he’d remain quiet, but he certainly would bring this up with Byleth.

Raphael slowed his stride to match Dimitri’s, Ignatz stayed beside their former professor, asking idle questions. The usual, _How have you been? What is the latest in your life?_ Sort of dribble that Dimitri found himself only stooping too when he had nothing else to say.

“Hey, Your Majesty?”

“Dimitri.”

“Dimitri, yeah,” Raphael leant close, “Is Byleth, like, ok?”

Dimitri tilted his head, “How do you mean?”

“He’s walking weird.”

Dimitri had grown accustomed to the slight limp Byleth had retained from his time in captivity. If his memory served him, there was a massive scar along his outer thigh that stretched down to his mid-calf. Dimitri never asked what had happened (though he knew it to be a result of his capture), as he had only seen it in fleeting glimpses.

In fact, outside of catching him changing or between baths, the only time he had seen his lover nude had been the last time they had sex. Before he had left for Fhirdiad, if he recalled. Byleth had been rather tired lately, taking so much upon his shoulders, Dimitri had yet to find the right time to partake with him again.

“He is still recovering from his imprisonment.”

Raphael hummed some kind of noise of understanding, and left it at that.

What once had been the student’s dorms had been largely remodeled. After the initial attack on the Monastery years ago, many of the dorms had been destroyed, or swarmed with insects after food had been left out to rot in favor of escaping for their lives. Dimitri had still been unwell during the repair of the former dorms, he did not remember when they had been cleaned up and made habitable.

It had to have been before that night when Byleth had enough of his wallowing and brought him back to his senses, that much he was sure of. His old room was spotless when he first retired, soaked but hopeful, to the room in favor of the cathedral.

Byleth stopped in front of the dorms, his fingers found the frill at the end of the scarf he donned.

“Your previous rooms have been cleaned and given fresh sheets, if you would like to stay here. Otherwise, I have prepared some proper guest—”

“They’re great!” Raphael cut him off, and immediately stormed his room, “Oh man, being here brings back _so_ many memories.”

“These rooms will be perfect, Your Grace,” Ignatz chuckled, and opened the door to his own room. He was swift to unpack his belongings, some ink and paints chief among them.

Dimitri was glad Ignatz continued to paint.

“Maya, yes?”

The girl startled, she must not have expected Byleth to speak to her.

“U-uh yes, Your Grace! What can I do for you?”

“He isn't going to bite you, Maya,” Raphael cackled from his room.

Byleth’s eyes shot between the two, then nodded, “Your brother is correct.”

“Of course, um, what is it that you require of me?”

“Nothing,” Byleth frowned, “Should you wish to stay near your brother, I have my previous room available. I had expected your arrival, and prepared it just in case. If that is not to your liking, I can set you up in one of the other suits.”

“Nope, that is just fine. More than fine really, thank you, Your Grace.”

“Call me Byleth.”

“R-right, thank you for the honor,” Maya bowed.

After an awkward beat, Byleth’s brows furrowed and he glanced at Rapheal, who simply shrugged in response. Byleth reached out to place a hand on the young woman, but hesitated, and drew his hand back as she straightened.

Dimitri took pity on the two, and cleared his throat, “Come, let us show you to your room.”

Both relaxed at the interruption, and after dropping Maya off in his old room, Byleth made some nonsensical excuse to leave and ducked out to undoubtedly flee to somewhere more isolated. Dimitri decided to stick around a bit longer to make sure their friends were properly settled in.

“Your Majesty?”

Dimitri turned to Maya, struggling to carry the bag her brother dropped into her arms, “Yes?”

“I… I apologize for offending your fiancé, It was not my intention.”

Dimitri managed to suppress his laughter, but only just, “Nonsense. You did not offend him at all.”

“Are you sure? He looked… _Angry._ ”

“He was not, I promise you.”

“Don’t worry sis,” Raphael assured, nudging her into the room she would spend the next week or so in, “His face is always like that, he’s a good guy though. Promise.”

Dimiri decided to leave them to unpack and unwind. He figured he probably should track down where Byleth ran off to. After adjusting the way his cloak sat upon his shoulders, he decided to check their room first. It was not close to any sort of meal time, and with Rhea off to visit wherever she was, Dimitri doubted anyone would pester Byleth there.

Snow crunched beneath his heavy boots as he trotted from the dorms to the main hall and up the flights of stairs. He knocked on the oak before peeking his head inside.

Sure enough, Byleth was laying on their bed, face down with his feet hanging off the edge.

“You quite alright?”

Byleth sighed, the sound muffled by the blanket beneath him, “Why are people frightened of me?”

Dimitri closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of bed, “They simply do not know you. Anyone who has spent more than a day by your side, knows you would never harm them.”

“It has grown tiring.”

He brushed some hair behind his Beloved’s ear, “I understand, they simply see what is on the surface. Unfortunately, that’s not something so easily controlled. By reputation alone, you paint a rather intimidating picture, Love.”

Byleth rolled onto his back and snorted, “I do not actually wish to be frightening, contrary to what is apparently popular belief.”

Dimitri chuckled, “I know, though, I doubt even the most intimidating truly desire to be seen as such.”

Byleth’s hand was warm when he rested it upon his cheek, his thumb brushed along his cheekbone, nail barely grazing the hem of his eyepatch. Dimitri closed his eyes and leant into the touch.

“Yes,” Byleth mused, “I suppose that is true.”

* * *

Throughout the following days, the former students of Garreg Mach monastery descended upon its walls once more. All bushy tailed and bright eyed, excited for the coming ceremony, no matter how small nor rushed it may be. So far, other than a few idle curiosities, none raised much question to why the wedding was being held so suddenly.

Perhaps they expected to be told the truth once everyone arrived, or perhaps they simply took Byleth at his word. Both, he supposed, were equally probable.

Though, he knew there were a select few among them that would not take Byleth’s feeble ‘I’m impatient’ excuse sitting down. They had yet to arrive.

It surprised Dimitri, then, that of the remaining people that had yet to make it to the monastery, Claude had arrived before Felix or Sylvain.

“Teach!” The man threw his arms wide and dragged a slightly exasperated Byleth into his arms, “Been awhile, huh?”

Byleth grunted.

“Where are we holdin’ up for the wedding?”

“I prepared your previous dorm rooms, if you’d like to stay there.”

Claude switched from embracing Byleth, to walking alongside him with an arm slung over his shoulder, “Sounds great. So, Teach, Your Kingliness, any particular reason you gave damn well _no_ sort of notice before your wedding? Ain't this supposed to be a big event?”

“I am impatient,” Byleth parroted, as he had many times prior.

“You knew I wouldn't believe that, Byleth,” Claude frowned, “What is really going on?”

Byleth did not respond, instead, he ducked under Claude’s arm and placed a bit of distance between them. The man could be very situational when it came to accepting physical affection, though even to Dimitri, it was clear as day he was avoiding the topic.

“Well,” Claude smiled, the creases beside his eyes were sharp as an arrow’s head, “Your Majesty, you care to explain?”

Dimitri stole a glance at Byleth, though received no sort of clue as to how he should react. Byleth’s eyes trained forward and focused solely on the task of walking to the dorms.

“Byleth,” Dimitri pleaded instead of answering Claude directly, “I don't think we can keep this from them for much longer. I do not believe we _should_.”

Byleth’s shoulders fell a touch, then, “Later, then.”

Claude seemed to accept that, though his smile shifted from something more irritated to more crestfallen, “You holding up alright, Byleth?”

“I am fine.”

“That I don't believe for a second either, my friend.”

Byleth shrugged.

Once Claude had been walked to the dorms, as Byleth had taken to doing as of late, was quick to excuse himself, leaving Dimitri to help their guest unpack. He did not mind doing more manual labor, Byleth simply couldn’t, but he worried for Byleth’s happiness. He loved being around his former students, even if simply watching from afar.

Dimitri wondered if lying to them left guilt wracking his mind.

“He is not doing ok,” Claude pipped from his right, “Is he?”

“No… I fear he is not. There is… A lot has been happening all at once, it has been quite a feat to take it all in.”

Claude nodded, “I can tell. I guess that has something to do with the last minute wedding?”

“Astute as ever, Claude.”

The man sorted, something Dimitri imagined would have been a laugh in any other circumstances, if any words came from his mouth other than, “He’s dying, isn't he?”

“...”

Dimitri’s silence seemed to be all Claude needed. He grabbed Dimitri’s shoulder, firm but not unkind, “Listen big guy, you do not hear this enough, certainly not enough from me, but we are here for you. Both of you, got that? No matter what happens, you can lean on us for support.”

Dimitri returned the action, clasping Claude’s shoulder in turn, “Thank you, my friend.”

Claude nodded, then gestured to the three bags he had brought with him, “Well then, I could use some help here, _friend._ ”

Dimitri scoffed, but helped him carry the bags upstairs nonetheless.

When Claude was squared away, he walked the familiar path up to the third floor where their room sat. He did not bother to knock as he pushed open the heavy wood, it creaked from the strain, the cold air starting to seep into the joints and stiffen them. Dimitri would have them oiled next he thought of it.

Byleth had lit the fireplace and sat in one of the seats before the open flame. Dimitri shrugged off his cloak and joined him.

“ _Will_ you tell them?” There was no point dancing around the subject, not when so little time remained.

“I would prefer not to, though I doubt I will be allowed that desire.”

Dimitri rested his ankle on his knee, “If you wished it, I would not speak a word of the ritual, nor your health. You know that.”

“ _But?_ ”

“But it's… They deserve to know,” Dimitri admitted and reclined in the chair, “It is not right for them to leave after the wedding, not knowing it could very well be the last they’d see you.”

Byleth frowned, his eyes not once leaving the fire. The orange glow reflected in his hair, highlighting the glowing strands framing his face as though they were of silk.

That line of speaking wasn't getting them anywhere, so Dimitri tried instead to question Byleth, “Why do you not wish to tell them?”

“It may be the last I see any of them,” His brows furrowed, “I do not wish my last memories of them to be sad, or pitying me.”

“They will be sad, yes, but they wouldn't pity you. If anything, they would probably be furious at the situation.”

“I do not wish to explain my choices,” Byleth leant back in the upholstered chair, “I told _you,_ that is enough.”

Dimitri couldn't figure out if Byleth simply did not wish to speak of it again, or if he only would have shared the information with his ears alone.

Dimitri reached out and rested his hand over where Byleth’s wrist sat on the arm of his seat, “You do not need to go into details, no one would ask that of you, I am sure. If they did, I would shut it down quickly, of that I promise. However, you mean the world to them, all of them. Sometimes I wonder if you know just how much of an impact you had on us.”

“I was your Professor, I do understand—”

“Byleth you are more than that, you always had been, even back in our Academy days.”

The expression Byleth made at the fire was almost confused, had he really not considered himself more than an exceptionally good teacher? It was painful to realize how deep Byleth’s sense of inadequacy went. Dimitri slid his hand down and intertwined their fingers, Byleth squeezed his hand in turn.

“The decision is ultimately yours,” Dimitri found his eyes lingering on the dancing flame before them, “However, I urge you to tell them. Allow them to be there for you, should the worse come to pass.”

Silence spanned the air as Dimitri waited for a response. After what had to be an eternity passed, Byleth squeezed his hand again.

“I will, when everyone is here, I will.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

Two days later, Felix and Dorthea arrived with their partners, marking off the last of their friends left to come.

“What in _Ailell_ is going on?” Dorothea was not one to stoop to vulgarities, ever. Though given the way she had Byleth pinned with a finger on his chest, she was far past fake pleasantries, “You promised I’d be able to help you plan!”

Byleth shrunk under her scowl, and Dimitri swept in to rescue his Beloved.

“Dorothea, I promise you, there is good reason for us to have rushed this as we had,” Dimitri offered, whilst he attempted to place himself between the two.

“There _better_ be! Petra and I were just about to part for Brigid, if we had, we would have missed the wedding entirely!”

Even Petra seemed troubled, “It is unlike you to make such error, are you feeling well?”

Felix chimed in with his own harsh, “Explain.”

Dimitri pushed down his irritation at their tones, of course they would be confused and hurt. They had no idea what was going on. Yet when he opened his mouth, no sound escaped. He did not know what to say. _Calm down?_ Dimitri did not believe such words would ultimately be taken well.

“The war room,” Byleth’s voice was stern, loud enough to silence every soul that stood in the entrance hall, “There will be a meeting there. You may unpack and take residency in your previous dorms, should it suit you. When all have arrived, I will explain.”

Without another wasted breath, the man turned in a swirl of white and purple, and left them. Undoubtedly going to the war room himself, to await his former students.

“Well then,” Sylvain broke the silence, “Guess we better hurry up and unpack, huh?”

“I will inform the others,” Dimitri decided.

Word traveled fast, as it always had in Garreg Mach. It couldn't have taken more than an hour for the lot of them to be piled around the war table as they had many times before. Emile stood guard just outside the room, in case any servants or knights got any bright ideas to spy on them.

All eyes were on Byleth, sitting at the head of the table where he belonged. His sharp gaze traveled over the rag-tag group he had gathered, people from all walks of life, each and every one ready to lay down their life for him. The loyalty they shared for Byleth was deeper than that of any professor and student, any lord and knight. As he often wondered, did Byleth know the depth of their devotion to him?

No, he _knew_ Byleth did not truly understand. It was not something he would ever command of them, it never once had been.

“So,” Linhardt yawned, “Care to finally tell us what’s up?”

“I am dying.”

The tension in the room was thick, suffocating. Other than a few sharp gasps, or the odd curse, it was silent. All eyes rested on Byleth while they waited for him to further explain.

“You all are aware of the Goddess’ place within me. Her presence within my body is killing me, slowly, yes, but it has been draining my life for a very long time. My mother had been a creation of Rhea, who she had originally implanted the crest of flames within. However, as I am sure you have realized, she had not been human. Nabateans can not have children with humans, so when I had been born, dead unsurprisingly, Rhea had implanted Sothis’ heart within me.

“Doing so brought me life, but also created a chimera. I am neither human, nor Nabatean. Whilst I have lived longer than any human would have with Sothis’ power, it was never something that could have lasted. At _best,_ I may have lived only another twenty years. With my capture, and the added injuries I had sustained, unfortunately brought that number down to just a few years. Months, if I am unlucky.”

“Wh-When did you find out?” Lysithea broke the silence that had followed, her voice wavering just enough to be noticeable.

“Recently,” Byleth replied, eyes soft when he turned to her, “All that I am telling you has been learned within the last month.”

Lysithea nodded, her hand still covering her mouth as she fought to hold back her tears. Raphael rubbed her back, it was no secret Lysithea would die young. Such was the curse of those bearing two crests.

“So that is why you are in such a rush to have the wedding,” Hilda scowled at the wood before her, as though the mahogany had personally offended her, “Fuck.”

Byleth nodded, “Yes, and no. There is a ritual that can be performed, that would allow my body to adapt to Sothis’ power, and become a Nabatean in full… ”

Claude steepled his fingers beneath his chin, “I am hearing a huge ass _but_ in there, Teach.”

“... It has a significantly high mortality rate.”

“ _How_ significant are we talking?”

“More or less a flip of a coin,” Byleth sighed, “I have decided to go through with the process.”

“Why?” Sylvain inquired.

“For multiple reasons, ultimately. It will extend my life should the ritual go as planned, and it would save the Nabatean people, ideally.”

“Save them?” Felix pushed to his feet, “Why do _they_ need saving?”

“It is complicated. Their people live on an island in the sky, after the war with Nemesis Rhea and some elder Nabateans had risen their homeland into the sky to escape further pursuit from humans. Doing so had led to many problems, food shortages, illnesses, and ultimately, the dwindling of an already small populous. To keep their land afloat, there is some sort of… Heart? Gem? I am unsure of the specifics myself, I know it is a part of Sothis, however.

“Those who feed the Heart magic have their own lives drained away. Eventually, there will be none to keep their home afloat. Should I become Nabatean, I would have the strength to keep it up indefinitely. Seteth has hopes that in me becoming Nabatean, I would be able to lead to the eventual lowering of their land, so they would not live in isolation any further.”

Felix’s eyes narrowed, “That sounds like you’re being _told_ to perform the ritual.”

“You are not wrong, Felix. Though do not mistake, I am deciding to go through with the process of my own free will. It is something Dimitri and I have already spoken of at large.”

The man’s eyes darted between the two, after he seemed to have found what he was looking for, Felix lowered himself back into his seat.

“When… When will the ritual happen?” Annette inquired.

“Three days after the wedding.”

“That explains a lot,” Caspar muttered.

“Well,” Claude leant back in his chair, “Guess I’ll be sticking around a bit longer than planned.”

Byleth tilted his head, before he could inquire, similar sentiments echoed throughout the room.

Mercedes must have noticed the bewilderment resting upon Byleth’s face, “Come now Byleth, surely you wouldn't expect us to just to leave after hearing this? We will stay by your side the entire time. Think of it as an incentive to come back to us, ok?”

“Yeah!” Annette chirped, “We can throw you a proper party too after you come back from the ritual!”

“One _I_ can actually help plan,” Dorothea scoffed, though there was no true venom in her voice.

Dimitri reached over to squeeze Byleth’s hand and smiled, “Told you.”

* * *

The following two days were an absolute whirlwind. With Seteth gone alongside Rhea, to wherever they had traveled to, there had not been anyone to walk Byleth down the aisle. The debate that followed was as humorous as it was exasperating.

They had eventually decided one of the students would have to, completely ignoring Alois’ offers to do so.

“The oldest of us,” Sylvain suggested, “That’d make the most sense.”

“Oh goodie!” Mercedes clapped her hands together, “That’d be me then.”

“Ah well, maybe it should be the oldest _man,_ and that’d be me _—_ ”

Flayn cleared her throat, “I do believe I am the oldest of you, by quite a significant margin at that.”

Sylvain laughed, “Flayn, you are an absolute angel, but how could _you_ be the oldest—”

“Come now Sylvain, surely there must have been enough room in that thick skull of yours to remember my true identity?”

“... Ouch. Ok, uh, Flayn it is, then?”

When no arguments arose, Flayn had thrown her hands in the air, “Yes!”

Then had come the matter of their attire.

Dimitri did not have anything particularly special tailored, but had many clothes from his father that would do just fine. Byleth had just planned to wear his more formal Archbishop attire, something that had offended Dorothea personally, apparently.

“No, absolutely not, I will not allow it,” she snapped, “Not on your _wedding_ day!”

“Does it matter?” Byleth inquired.

“Does it…? _Byleth!_ Of course it does! Just because this is rushed, doesn't mean it isn't a special occasion, I will not have you wear clothes you don every day!”

“It may not be ideal,” Mercedes offered, “But I would be happy to alter some clothes for you!”

“I will help,” Petra decided.

“As will I,” Dedue offered, “I do not have an eye for design, but I know how to sew.”

“... Thank you.”

* * *

White had blanketed the Monastery and surrounding mountains. The sort of chill that could seep into one’s very bones, though the air within the cathedral was warm. Near stifling, really. But that could very well be Dimitri’s nerves.

It was surreal, standing where he was. Once, he had stood in this very spot listening to the demons that plagued him, the voices of the dead demanding revenge. The space where stained glass shone a myriad of colors into the cathedral, had once been nothing more than rubble. Now, he stood there waiting for his soon to be Husband.

_Husband._

The word was never something Dimitri imagined he’d speak aloud, much less toward Byleth. And yet, despite all odds, here he stood. He was alive, he was happy, and when the doors of the Cathedral opened, he found it _very_ hard not to start crying.

Byleth was breathtaking. There were no other words to describe him.

His hair had been pulled back from his face, gathered into a loose bun adorned with pearls and flowers. Mostly lilies, though Dimitri could pick out splashes of color that belonged to flowers of Almyra. The white robes he donned swirled just above his ankles, where delicate golden beadwork had been done. Similarly golden tassels brushed against the tops of his boots while he walked. A scarf of patterned wool hung loosely off his shoulders—the design of which he recognized to be of Duscur—had been secured at his collarbone with a silver and blue broach.

The _Blue Lion’s broach_ the class had gifted to him on his birthday.

Flayn, wearing a white and green gown of her own curtsied upon reaching the altar. Dimitri returned the bow, and when they straightened, Flayn handed Byleth’s ungloved hand to rest upon his white silk one. There was a soft clack of wooden and clay beadwork, where Brigid jewelry had adjourned Byleth’s wrists.

He guided Byleth from Flayn’s side to where Mercedes stood, an open book in hand, and Annette just a few paces behind her.

“It’s an honor to officiate your wedding,” her smile was soft, “Today, we are blessed to attend the wedding between two of our dearest friends, a union _undoubtedly_ to be favored by the Goddess herself. Here before you, stand two men that have been through more than any of us can ever imagine, and came out stronger for it, together. I dare say the bond between them unbreakable. Let us listen as they speak their truth.”

“What I will say, are all things you’ve heard from me before,” Dimitri chuckled, desperately trying to maintain his composure despite the tears stinging his eyes, “But what else can I say to someone who has saved me too many times to count? There are no words in this tongue that can even begin to describe how honored I am, that you chose me, of all people. That you’ve trusted me with your fears, your thoughts, your dreams and emotions.”

“I had never expected to make it this far, nor had I ever dreamed myself worthy to be loved,” he warbled, “Yet here I am. The happiest I’ve been in my life. Just a few years ago, I imagined myself to be found dead in a ditch somewhere, I couldn't have dreamed to be where I am today. Surrounded by my closest friends, marrying the man I love more than anything.”

Byleth reached up to cup his cheek, where fat tears had begun their descent from his eye, and brushed them away with a gentle swipe of his thumb.

“I know these feelings will never change. I will always love you, for the rest of our days, if you would allow me, I want to be by your side,” Dimitri hiccuped, “No matter _what_ may come, you will be the only man for me. There never could be anyone else, you will always be my one, and my only.”

Byleth’s smile was small, yet so warm. His eyes pinched at the corners, and bore a glossy sheen to them, it was beautiful to behold. Byleth loved him. He loved _him,_ of all people. Dimitri pulled the hand on his cheek down to his mouth where he could kiss the bare knuckles.

“Words have never been my strength,” Byleth spoke, “But know that being by your side, would be all I could ever ask for. You are so adored, by friends and your people alike. You are kind, strong, and wield enough courage for a thousand men. I love you more than you could ever know.”

Their foreheads brushed against each other, Byleth’s warm skin brought comfort to Dimitri. He swallowed and managed to smile despite tasting the salt of tears upon his upper lip, “You know, I had hoped to be the one making _you_ cry.”

Byleth laughed, a sweet melodious sound, akin to bells in the spring breeze.

“Do you, King Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, and you, Archbishop Byleth Eisner, agree to take each other's hand in holy matrimony, in sickness,” Mercedes’ voice wavered, “And in health? Through all hardships your love may face? Do you swear to always be loyal and true?”

“Yes,” There was no other answer in Dimitri’s mind.

“Always.”

“The rings?”

Annette offered the pair on a pillow she had been holding.

They were deceptively simple at a glance. Carved from antler, and an inlay along the center of gold, each ring had been adorned with a sapphire, and two smaller diamonds on either side. Dimitri accepted one, and held Byleth’s hand out to slide the ring onto his finger.

It fit perfectly.

Byleth then did the same for him, his fingers lingered on the small engravings decorating the space near the precious stones. Forget-me-nots had been carved on either side, their stems then became the golden band that reached around the center of the carved and polished antler.

“Was this crafted from the moose?” Byleth asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Yes, there had been just enough remaining from when I had carved the clasp of your cloak.”

“With the rings exchanged,” Mercedes beamed, “You may now kiss the groom.”

The kiss was chaste, yet the moment their lips touched, cheers and whistles erupted in the cathedral.

Dimitri interlocked their fingers, pulled back, and lifted their hands above their heads with a wide grin and declaration, “May the festivities begin!”

* * *

Dimitri could not tell if it was late at night, or the earliest of the morning when they finally returned to their shared room. Unlike Byleth, he at least _started_ to dress down before collapsing onto the bed.

“Tired, Love?”

Byleth’s muffled affirmation brought forth a chuckle from Dimitri.

“Did you enjoy yourself, at least?”

Byleth rolled onto his back and propped himself up on his elbows, toeing off his boots at least, “Yes, it was… Nice to see everyone together again. I forget how I miss them, sometimes.”

“Likewise,” Dimitri agreed, his fingers made short work of his jacket and decorative tassels, then started with his belt, “They’re a good lot.”

“They are.”

Dimitri draped his silken belt over the back of the desk chair, and began to unbutton his undershirt as he became increasingly more aware of the eyes watching his every move. It was nothing new, undressing before Byleth. They had seen eachother in various states of undress frequently now, yet there was a heat to the gaze that made Dimitri fumble with the pesky things.

He gave up and just shucked his gloves off and climbed into the bed above Byleth, straddling his Husband’s hips.

The action seemed to please him, as Byleth’s hands were quick to cup his cheeks and pull him down for a kiss of a more passionate variety. Byleth eagerly opened his mouth to Dimitri, allowing him free roam into his Beloved’s mouth. Byleth’s hands reached up behind him and tugged at the hairband keeping his hair away from his face in a braid. When his hair flopped loosely around his shoulders, Byleth tugged the eyepatch off next.

Dimitri allowed it, and when it had been removed, set it aside on the bedside table.

Dimitri leant back down to speak against his Husband’s lips, “You have no idea what you do to me, my Love.”

Byleth hummed, a hand moved from his face to brush lithe fingers over his swelling erection, “I might.”

Dimitri chuckled, “Do you feel up for this?”

“Very much so.”

With the affirmation he desired, Dimitri began to undress him. The broach was carefully unclasped from his collarbone, and along with the scarf, were carefully draped over the end-table with his eyepatch. Byleth’s robe hung easily from his shoulders, revealing the black undershirt he wore that clung to his body in all the right places.

After untying the sash and pushing the robe from Byleth’s body, the man was left in little more than his undergarments.

“How do you want me?” Dimitri asked.

Byleth pursed his lips in thought, then tugged Dimitri back down to work his lips against his jugular. A hint of the sharp fang Byleth bore occasionally scraped against his skin, “Like this is fine.”

Dimitri managed to keep himself from ripping their shirts off completely, though did tear the side of Byleth’s pants a bit.

Byleth laughed when the rip of fabric echoed between them.

His cheeks flushed with his embarrassment, “Sorry.”

Before Dimitri could ask for forgiveness, Byleth brought him down again and kissed him. All worries of clothes were lost to him. Dimitri nudged his husband further up the bed, so he could rest with his head cushioned by down pillows.

He perched on his heels, taking in the sight below him. While Byleth’s hair was still mostly up, many strands had fallen from the original bun, a couple petals were missing and scattered around their bed. Though, Dimitri far from minded.

It was incredible. To look down upon Byleth and think, _that’s my husband._ That is Byleth Blaiddyd.

Dimitri bowed down and lifted Byleth’s legs to rest on his shoulders. He peppered soft kisses down Byleth’s inner thigh, until his mouth reached between his legs properly. Dimitri glanced up to Byleth, who nodded, then dragged his tongue along his labia. It was a shame he couldn't taste, as he was sure he would have been satisfied from Byleth’s arousal alone.

He took Byleth’s cock into his mouth laving his tongue over the nub. Each soft noise Byleth made was akin to the sweetest ale. He would never tire of the sound. He pulled back with a wet pop when Byleth’s tugs on his hair grew a bit more sharp.

He licked his lips of the dewy moisture that coated them, and Byleth made a strangled sound that barely died in his throat, “You're incredible,” he whispered.

Dimitri wasn't sure where the sudden spike of arousal came from, but it was there, and he wanted nothing more than to hear Byleth sing his praises for the rest of the night.

He scrambled up to press a wet open-mouthed kiss to Byleth’s neck, delighting in the way Byleth tilted his head just so. Of course, he took great care to not leave any marks. Byleth grabbed his hair and tugged him from his neck, Dimitri pulled away without fuss.

“I can take a bruise Dimitri,” Byleth chuckled, “You do not need to hold back.”

Dimitri frowned, “I might hurt y—”

“I am a _God,_ apparently. Do you really think a bit of rough sex will kill me?”

Dimitri brushed his knuckles along Byleth’s cheek, “Tell me the moment it’s too much, alright?”

Byleth nodded, and Dimitri steeled his nerves when he swooped back down to kiss Byleth. His trailed kiss down his jaw, his neck, and to his collarbone. He nipped at the skin there, experimenting with Byleth’s reaction. When he showed no signs of discomfort, Dimitri moved his mouth to his neck, digging his teeth into the tender flesh there.

Byleth let out a soft exhale, Dimitri redoubled his efforts, licking and stucking all manner of bruises along the base of his neck, chest, and shoulders.

He rolled the flat of his tongue over his love’s nipple, drawing out another soft sound, this time accompanying a stroke of his hair and a “ _Good._ ”

Dimitri preended under the praise.

He pulled back to dig around in their end drawer, producing their vial of oil. He popped the cork open and slathered his fingers, before ducking back down to mouth at Byleth’s chest. Dimitri sucked Byleth’s right nipple between his teeth, while he worked his fingers against Byleth. When he was a bit more lubed up, he slid a finger into him.

He worked the digit in and out, then added another as he began to stretch and scissor his husband open. Byleth tugged at his hair again, and Dimitri eagerly obeyed his silent command and connected their mouths once more.

He added a third finger, drawing a sharp grunt from Byleth. He pulled back and brushed their foreheads together, “Too fast?”

Byleth shook his head, and closed the distance between them once more.

Dimitri was a bit more careful, preparing Byleth to take him. He slowed the thrusting of his fingers, and instead moved to take Byleth’s ear between his teeth. The way he shuddered beneath him was heavenly.

Byleth brushed his nose along his jaw, “I’m ready.”

Dimitri pulled away, and eased his fingers from Byleth. He used his hand to slick up his dick, and added a bit of extra oil to be safe, then lined himself up. Dimitri pushed Byleth’s legs up, careful not to disturb his knee, and appart, putting the entirety of his Beloved on display.

Already where Dimitri had sunk his teeth into Byleth’s flesh was starting to redden and color, they would leave clear bruises for a week, easily. Dimitri stopped himself before his thoughts trailed to the bitter _what ifs,_ and shook his head of them.

“Dima?”

“Yes, sorry, Byleth. I… I got distracted.”

“Get on your back.”

Bewildered by the command, Dimitri followed it regardless. He flopped to his back beside Byleth, who was quick to change their position to straddle Dimitri’s hips. The curve of his cock rested flush against Byleth’s stomach, the head coming just past his naval.

He was fascinated by the sight. He had not realized the length he bore, when compared to Byleth’s own size. Dimitri feared it was uncomfortable to take.

Byleth wrapped his fingers around Dimitri’s dick and gave him a few languid tugs, bringing Dimitri back to reality. His _husband_ was straddling his lap, undoubtedly planning to ride him. Dimitri swallowed and grabbed Byleth’s hips before he could lift himself.

“W-wait, what of your knee?”

“This angle does not put much pressure on it,” Byleth assured.

Byleth used where Dimitri held him as leverage to rise his hips up, brushing his wet entrance against the swollen head of his cock. Then, dropped himself down.

Were it not for Dimitri managing to catch him, Byleth would have slammed his hips against Dimitri’s in a single fell swoop. Even taking what must have been at least half in a single push was enough to wind Byleth. The man leant forward with a heavy exhale, more strands of silken green escaped his delicately made hairstyle.

Dimitri’s head fell back into the pillows with an open-mouthed moan. The shock of pleasure was a jolt to his senses. Byleth felt so warm and perfect around him, it was hard not to just spill his load right then and there. He couldn't though, not until he was sure Byleth had been satisfied.

Using his arms as leverage, Byleth rose, and eased himself back down. Slowly pushing Dimitri deeper into him. He watched in awe when Byleth’s hips finally pressed flush against his own.

Byleth guided Dimitri’s hands to rest on the curve of his ass, and leant forward. He couldn't quite reach his mouth from their current position, so he resorted to nipping at his chin until Dimitri inclined his head enough to humor him. Byleth placed his hands on his chest, and lifted himself up to where Dimitri threatened to slip from his body, then dropped back down. The sharp spike of pleasure pushed a moan from both of them.

Byleth repeated the action, tortuously slow. He tried to use his hands to gently guide Byleth to pick up the pace, but the man chuckled into his neck and refused to take his silent plea.

“B-Beloved, please.”

“Please what?”

Dimitri shot his husband a look as best he could from their current angle, “Do you plant to have me beg?”

“Yes.”

Dimitri swallowed, “Please, my love, my heart. I cannot stand the pace you have set.”

Byleth rumbled against his mouth and rewarded him by doing just as he wanted, praising him, “Good, just like that Dima.”

His fingers went numb from the words. Earning his love’s praises of approval felt just as, if not even better, than the feeling of Byleth bouncing on his hips. Byleth stroked hair from his eye and kissed him, shifting himself a bit more forward. Breaths coming in sharp pants. Dimitri couldn't help himself, he adjusted his grip on Byleth’s body and pushed up to his knees, holding Byleth flush against him.

Byleth’s head threw back at the movement. Perhaps the last position was not quite the best angle for him.

Dimitri shifted his weight to support the two of them, then lifted Byleth up from his dick, and pushed him back down with a sharp slap. Byleth cried out, enough that Dimitri froze, frightened he had hurt him, but the way he was nuzzling the crook of his neck told another story.

“Y-yes, hng, like _that,_ Dima. Please.”

Spurred on by the sweetest sounds escaping his husband, Dimitri lifted Byleth and thrusted back into him as gravity pulled him down. Wet slaps echoed through the room between their grunts and moans. Byleth’s talons dragged down Dimitri’s arms, and his teeth sunk into his shoulder, earning another surprising jolt of bliss.

He could see why Byleth enjoyed biting now.

After another minor angle adjustment, Dimitri began hammering into him with no abandon. Thrusting into him as he desired, as he had longed to do. Byleth encouraged him, panting praises beside his ear where his head rested upon his shoulder.

The encouragement further brought Dimitri close to the edge, he rested his cheek over the side of Byleth’s head, heaving harsh pants as he neared his completion.

“Dima, please, just a bit longer,” Byleth pleaded, and who was Dimitri to deny such a delicious request.

His thrusts grew messy, he knew, but he continued until he heard the perfect cry of release from his husband, the way he tightened and throbbed around him made him nearly see white. After a few more thrusts, he found his own release, pulling Byleth as close to him as physically possible, their hips flush and sticky with their combined fluids.

Dimitri fought to catch his breath between heaving gasps for air. He leant back and adjusted his legs so he could fall with Byleth comfortably upon his chest.

It brought him pride to hear how Byleth too struggled to catch his own breath. Fueling no small sense of accomplishment to have brought his Beloved to such a state.

As their breathing returned, another noise kicked in instead. A deep rumbling sound vibrated against his shoulder. It took a couple minutes for his head to clear enough to actually discern the origin of the noise. Where Byleth had tucked his head into the crook where his shoulder and neck met, was the source. _Byleth_ was making the sound.

He recalled hearing it briefly a few times in the past. As though he was purring. Dimitri brushed the back of his head, and Byleth sighed into the touch, the sound deepening and growing louder. So pleased was Byleth with their lovemaking, that he started _purring!_

Dimitri was stupid with glee.

“You must do that more often,” Dimitri breathed, kissing Byleth’s hair as best he could reach.

The noise stopped immediately, and Byleth pulled back, furrowed brows upon his face. Dimitri smoothed them out with his thumb, and traced his fingers along Byleth’s cheekbones, “I… I am sorry. I must have spoken out of turn.”

Byleth covered his hand with his own, “No, no. It is simply… Embarrassing.”

“Why?”

“Its… Animalistic.”

“Yet it means you are happy? Right?”

Byleth closed his eyes, “Yes, I am happy.”

“Then, if I said I found the sound soothing, would you continue?”

Byleth’s eyes snapped open, narrow pupils narrowed in on his face, after a beat, Byleth squeezed his hand and tucked himself in against his chest once more, “Very well.”

“I… I do not wish to force you to-”

“No, it is something that comes naturally to Nabateans, apparently, it is… More uncomfortable to not do so, oddly.”

Sure enough, as they settled into silence, the sound kicked up again. More muted than before, but still there. Dimitri closed his eyes and lent further into Byleth’s arms, and when the high eased, Dimitri decided the tackiness of cum, oil, and sweat on his skin grew uncomfortable.

“Come, let us bathe.”

“No,” Byleth grunted, pushing himself further against Dimitri’s chest.

“Byleth,” He laughed, “We will regret not doing so tomorrow.”

“Don’t care,” He murmured, and Dimitri realized his Beloved was more or less asleep.

Dimitri considered his options, then decided _he_ couldn't deal with the feeling, so he eased a hand under Byleth’s shoulders, and the back of his knees, and swept him off the bed.

“ _Dima_ , let me sleep.”

“We both may sleep after a bath,” Dimitri responded and kissed his _husband’s_ sweaty forehead.

Byleth groaned, but did not put any further of an argument up. After a bath, and some fresh sheets Dimitri pulled on, Byleth begrudgingly admitted it was far more comfortable than sleeping in a pile of their own fluids.

“I love you, Byleth.”

“I love you too,” Byleth yawned and kissed the scarring beneath the socket his eye had once been, “Dimitri.”

* * *

Smoke curled around him, thick and impenetrable. How had he come to this? He called out for support, for _anyone_ , but his voice was stolen in favor of the sound of explosives. Barrel bombs going off to his left. He ran toward the screams and left in the explosive wake.

Something crunched beneath his foot. When he glanced to see what he had stepped on, he found the broken skull of a castle guard. The smoke wouldn't let up, curling and suffocating, stealing breaths from his lungs before they could be had. He stumbled away from the mangled corpse, until he stepped on another.

His lungs burned for air, his vision swam and curled. He was on the ground, he could taste the gore he had spilt. The tang of blood and decay rested heavy on his tough as he choked. Hands dug into his neck, his father stared down at him.

“Pathetic,” He frowned, “To have such a vile thing play King, play _husband_.”

Dimitri struggled against the arms pinning him down, covering his ears, though the words could not be drowned out.

“Dimitri,” His father mocked, stealing Byleth’s voice. He gagged and clawed at his captor. He would not go down. No so easily.

_“Dima!”_

The world was black.

He couldn't breathe, it was too hot. He couldn't make out what was around him, where had his father gone? Did he abandon him again? Was he left to carry the burden alone?

A hand pressed against his lower back, and a shaky calm was found.

Byleth guided him to lay back down, and brought them close. Dimitri buried his face in his Beloved’s neck, taking in all he could of Byleth’s scent. Pine, warmth, home. It would never be spoken of, the way Dimitri sometimes clung to Byleth at night, and sobbed into his chest as a child might. The way Byleth would rub his back, comforting him with soft assurances and praises.

“Don't leave me,” Dimitri begged, pulling Byleth impossibly closer as he tried in vain to shrink his bulking size to fit better into Byleth’s arms, “Please. _Please Byleth,_ I need you. I _can't_ lose you yet, I… I’m lost without you.”

“I will not leave you,” Byleth whispered into his hair, his hot breath ticked the strands there, “Rest now, all is well.”

Dimitri never could stay awake long after a nightmare when Byleth comforted him. His body, so desperate for sleep. Blindly, he reached up and rested a hand on Byleth’s cheek. He could feel his lashes flutter against his skin.

As he found a shaky enough peace to sleep, Dimitri wondered while he dozed back off, why his fingers had grown wet on Byleth’s skin.

* * *

Neither Seteth nor Rhea spoke on the marks littering his skin. Aside from a raised brow from Seteth, though that was to be expected.

Byleth stared at the stone constructing the vast ceiling above where he laid. Sothis’ coffin was horribly uncomfortable, it would only be temporary though, one way or another. Above him, he knew Dimitri sat in the cathedral, waiting for him to come back. Flayn was with him, and the other two Nabateans Byleth had yet to find any feelings towards one way or another.

Seteth and Rhea were all who accompanied him down in the Goddess’ tomb.

With them, they had brought various tools and vials, all meant to assist his body in coming back to life when he died.

Byleth did not fear death, he had danced with it too many times to count. But… He feared for those he would leave behind.

He feared for Dimitri.

If not for himself, then for _him_ , Byleth needed to make it out alive. Though he was no fool, and knew no matter how hard he may fight, if death would not release it’s hold upon him, there would be no escape.

Torches had been placed around the casket, to help them see better, he supposed.

Rhea came to his side and sat on the edge of the stone, “Nervous?”

Byleth grunted.

She hummed, and reached down to brush hair from his eyes. Byleth did not recoil, but found the action unpleasant. Perhaps such an action was now reserved for only Dimitri, or perhaps, for anyone but Rhea herself.

If she noticed his discomfort, she did not speak on it.

“You are very brave,” praise fell from her lips like venom.

With a delicate flick of her wrist, she unsheathed the dagger from it’s protective shell. She held the fine blade up to the light, the silver shone red under the glow of the fires. Her eyes left him to call to Seteth, still setting up the concoctions and medicines they would need.

“Seteth, this isn't the dagger with the anesthetics. Look for one with the green hilt.”

“Green…? You said _blue_ before!” Seteth snapped, but from the footfalls and shuffling at the far end of the chamber, he was searching for a weapon to fit the description.

Rhea turned her attention back to the dagger, her free hand rested on his bare shoulder. They had permitted him pants, at least, though only ones that hung loose around his hips. Ones that could be easily torn as needed. The hand moved from his shoulder to his cheek, and she smiled.

Silver flashed before his eyes as the blade was plunged into a gap between his ribs.

He opened his mouth to scream, but Rhea’s hand, already braced upon his face, was quick to cover it. The blade pulled, down, down, _down…_ There was a snap, bone cracking to fall away as she carved his chest open.

Byleth had never experienced such agony. Thorns of fire pricked his skin, his body no longer under his control as he convulsed.

The was a clatter, the dagger being tossed aside, and something pushed into his chest. He could only hear the wet squelch of something forcing muscles and tissue alike to move aside. He could feel smaller blades, pushing at his organs and flesh as they wrapped around something.

He opened his mouth, and bit down on the digits invading it. Blood gushed into his mouth, be it his own or Rhea’s he did not care. Neither did Rhea, as she pulled back from his chest. There was resistance, as though his spine were being pulled from his breast, then a snap. Rhea’s hand flew from his chest.

Clenched between her bloodied and gored talons was something red and glowing. It pulsed with light, Byleth’s vision swam.

His crest stone, he realized. Rhea had stolen the crest stone, but without it he—

_He couldn't…_

Blood pooled in his ears, he could only hear his own desperate gurgles for air around the mangled fingers still in his mouth.

There was....

A sound.

A scream, maybe.

_Was it his?_

Rhea leant down, Byleth’s vision grew blurry.

Her green hair reflected blood in the light of the torches, her smile saccharine and sweet.

“Your sacrifice will not be forgotten, my child.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *surprised pikachu face*
> 
> My [Twitter](https://twitter.com/vulturepops)


	24. The Progenitor God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ....

“Cease this pacing at once, you are giving us all a headache.”

Dimitri stopped his treading, though shot Macuil a pointed look. He was too stressed, too worried, too exhausted, to deal with the Nabatean’s ribbing. The man jut his chin out, a silent challenge, a willingness to fight.

Were it not for the tremendous self control Dimitri fought for, he would have shoved the nearest stone or splinter of wood down his throat. Instead, he breathed a steadying sigh, returned to the pew and sat beside Flayn.

She rubbed his shoulder, “We are all worried.”

He knew that. He did.

Though he doubted Macuil was worried, the Nabatean had been distant toward Byleth, and on more than one occasion would have a disgusted face whenever his husband had walked past. Indech, at least, genuinely seemed to care for Byleth as a person. Even if Byleth’s own feelings toward him were likely lukewarm, at best.

His Beloved _did_ take time to warm up to people proper.

It had taken a while for them to empty the cathedral completely. The better half of the morning had been devoted to scrubbing the area for any signs of people that could have stayed behind, might have snuck to hide, to see what magic would await them, from the other side of the bridge.

It was lucky, the only real safe way to get to the cathedral was from the bridge, now heavily guarded by the lions themselves. Better that way, Dimitri figured, they were the only ones he would have trusted to protect this place, whilst the ritual happened. Even the resident Abyssinians had come out to join them, Dimitri rarely saw Yuri or the others.

Though he recalled all four of them had all been present at the wedding. They were more Byleth’s friends, than his, much like Emile. Other than Hapi, he rather enjoyed her company.

Even so, Dimitri did not for a second doubt their loyalty to Byleth.

The silence of the cathedral was deafening.

“Father has spent _days_ preparing,” Flayn assured, “He’s done everything he can think of to make sure this all goes smoothly.”

Dimitri nodded, her voice sounded so far away. As though speaking from another room, as he found his eyes trained on the marble beneath their feet. She continued to talk, he could hear her, yet the meaning of her words were lost within the buzz of his ears.

Byleth would be fine, he assured himself.

Byleth was strong, he could make it through. Seteth was there, he knew he’d do whatever possible to assist him. Everything would work out, Byleth may need to rest for some time, but he’d come back to Dimitri.

He had to have faith in that.

Flayn squeezed his wrist, when had she stopped talking?

“It will be alright,” She promised.

Hollow words, ones that meant nothing coming from her lips. It _might_ be alright. There is no guarantee.

He shook his head, loose strands of his hair stuck to his forehead. He was sweating. Dimitri knew he could get sweaty, especially when stressed, yet the stifling heat… He felt as though we were suffocating. The stone beneath their feet cooking them alive.

It wasn't until he saw Macuil jolt from the corner of his eye, that he realized something wasn't right.

_No._

Everything was fine. He felt Flayn tighten her grip upon his wrist. Seteth said they could feel each other's death. Their bond of blood was not something Dimitri understood. Though he knew it to be a sign of the ritual happening. Byleth would come back.

He had to come back.

The seconds ticked by like years, Dimitri couldn't stand the anticipation. The bated breath they all held.

Nothing changed, Flayn’s grip became tighter, as her voice broke the silence, trepid and scared, “Uncle…”

Indech, on Dimitri’s other side, had been silent up until then. His Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed, brows furrowed as he stared off toward the far end of the cathedral. No response given.

More time passed, then Indech stood, “Something's gone wrong. He should have—”

The doors leading to the Goddess’ tomb exploded open. Rhea’s legs carried her as fast as they were undoubtedly able, blood of red and green stained her white gown. Something clutched to her chest. Her eyes were wide and wild, Indech ran and grabbed her by the shoulders, Dimitri on his heel.

“What happened!?”

The heat beneath them rose. Dimitri _knew_ he had not been imagining it.

The stones glowed as they reached a melting point. Dimitri pulled Flayn from the center, Indech doing the same with his sister. Delicately lain tiles and stone bubbled, swelling with the overwhelming heat coming from below. Then, the bubble burst and collapsed in on itself, melting into the massive hole it left behind.

There were scrapes, the sound of claws scratching stone, tile, and dirt alike. Massive talons rose from the depths of the hole, they flexed and dug into the remaining marble, dragging something far larger up from… From the Goddess’ Tomb.

_Byleth._

Those claws were too big, Byleth was massive, sure, but this… The pearlescent talons were nothing short of gargantuan. Yet when the curve of colossal green horns rose through the molten rock, followed by the head he _knew_ belonged to his Beloved, there was no mistaking it.

_That_ was Byleth.

His head tilted, as though the weight of the horns curling around his face were too heavy to keep his skull up. Another clawed hand came, and he pushed himself further from the hole.

Had Byleth done that?

Dimitri opened his mouth to call for him, yet the words were stolen from his mouth. He could barely breathe, the magic crackling through the air bordered on painful. Bursts of lightning sparked along his horns, paying none of them any mind.

The ritual went well, then, right? Perhaps adjusting to this newer form was difficult. He tried to take a step forward, but Flayn put her entire body against his abdomen, pushing him back a step.

“Don’t,” She whispered, her eyes matched the same wild terror Rhea’s had, “He’s not… Something is very, _very_ , wrong.”

“He’s alive,” Dimitri breathed, relief surged his veins, “He’s alive, it’s alright. He—”

She pushed him further back, Dimitri allowed it, if for no other reason than his confusion.

“No, Dimitri, you don't understand. We can feel each other's deaths.”

“I know, Seteth told me—”

“We can feel each other's life as well,” She pleaded, “I do _not_ feel Byleth’s.”

Impossible. Byleth was right there. He was _alive_.

The dragon rose further from the hole he had burnt into the earth, his horns disturbed several stones as they brushed against the ceiling. Dislodging rubble each time he shifted, broken splinters pattered to the ground.

Craning his neck, Byleth managed to lift his chest up, revealing a massive wound over his heart.

That didn't make sense. How… How could that have happened? They were going to stay clear of his crest stone, without it, Byleth would be unable to return.

The plated scales there were horribly damaged, cracked and warped. Splinters of pale green hung from his chest in bloody sinews, scraping against the marble as he leant forward. Dark, viscous fluid poured from the open wound, smearing across the white when his chest brushed the floor.

Unsteady, was the silence that spanned before them. The magic crackling in the air left Dimitri breathless.

Byleth’s head lowered, looking around the cathedral. His movements were jerky, off-kilter, somehow. As though it were his first time being within the stone walls. When his eyes passed over he and Flayn, Dimitri found another labored breath stolen from his lungs.

His love’s pupils had always been rather narrow, even more so after his transformation. Yet when those cold eyes drifted along past them, they were nothing more than a breath of black in a sea of green. More importantly, Dimitri realized, there had been no sign of recognition. As though he wasn't even there, of no more importance than a fly on the wall or a roach beneath a boot.

Then, Byleth’s eyes settled on Rhea.

There was no warning when he lunged for her, his horns getting caught between the pillars was the only thing that kept her alive. Byleth exploded into action. His claws scrambled for purchase, destroying the intricate marble beneath his bulk, the hole widening as the center of the building began to collapse in on itself. A swing of his head, and four pillars had been decimated, the ceiling crumbling around him.

A blast of wind jerked Byleth’s attention from Rhea and Indech, his eyes settling on where Macuil had warped himself to the other side of the room. The sound that escaped Byleth’s mouth was nothing short of unholy. He screamed, more of that dark liquid spurt from his open mouth, translucent teeth stained a feral red.

Macuil only just managed to escape Byleth’s talons when they swung around. His movements were limited in such a small space, slowing them enough to dodge. If only just.

Indech grabbed Dimitri’s arm, and thrust some small object into his hand, wrapped in cloth. The immense heat it gave off was only just stifled from burning thanks to the layers of fabric between him and the object.

“Take Flayn and run. Evacuate the Monastery.”

“But Byleth—”

“—Forget about him for now,” Indech snapped, and closed his fingers around the object in his palm, “Get everyone out, and protect this with your damn _life_ , you hear me?”

Dimitri gripped the small item, he would return once everyone was out. For now, as a King, he had to be sure of his subject’s safety. Indech was right.

Dimitri would come back for Byleth.

“Understood.”

Dimitri hoisted Flayn in one arm, and burst through the massive doors. He could hear more screams, sounds that could _almost_ be human, beneath the distortion that wavered around Byleth’s voice.

The gate was still down, though most of those guarding the bridge had gathered around it.

“Whats going on?”

“What is that fucking sound?”

Dimitri did not respond, instead he kicked the lever to the gate, it creaked and groaned beneath the strain, but the chains moved. Dimitri wasted no time for it to rise fully, ducking under the iron spikes as soon as he could fit.

“Move out, now. Get the monastery evacuated, grab what you can if it is on the way. We must get people out.”

There was a terse silence, as they hesitated to follow his command, their concern for Byleth outweighed his position of authority. Had it been any other situation, he would have been pleased, now all he felt was fury.

“ _ **Now!**_ ” He thundered, “We can not waste time, move, immediately! That is an order!”

His shouting snapped them to their senses, and they exploded into action. Those with flying mounts in hand took to the sky, riding ahead to send word whilst the rest of them sprinted along the bridge.

There was another deafening roar, Flayn screamed and covered her ears. Dimitri stumbled at the sound. Her breathing became labored against his shoulder, eyes wide, inhuman.

“D-Dimitri, release me.”

He did as asked immediately, though the moment her feet touched the ground, she crumpled. The others stopped, faltering as she let out another cry of pain when the same howl tore through the air.

What was happening?

Dimitri turned to those hesitating at the far end of the bridge, “Go! Get everyone to safety, I will—”

Before his sentence could be finished, fire and glass exploded from the cathedral. From what had to have been the stained-glass window, Byleth emerged. His feathers were blinding under the sun’s sharp rays when he pulled himself from the cathedral, clambering to the peak of the spire. The building groaned and creaked beneath his lumbering form, the smaller steeples collapsing as his feet brushed past them in a desperate attempt to find balance.

Byleth’s four wings unfurled, fanning out as he released another booming cry, the air around them shook with it’s might. The feathers cast the entirety of Garreg Mach in shadow, when the dragon rose to his full height, towering over the monastery.

White pearlescent scales dotted Flayn’s arms, her boots and leggings tore where webbed talons had sprouted. She curled in on herself, sobbing in what Dimitri could only imagine to be agony as he held herself back.

Was Byleth forcing her to turn?

“Is that the _Professor_?” Someone cried, but the air was too thick to discern who had spoken.

“Go! Hurry!”

Finally, they seemed to listen. They flew through the doors, Dimitri could only pray they got themselves out too.

He knelt beside Flayn’s violently shaking form, “Flayn, what do you need? What can I do?”

Her mouth opened but nothing other than another hiccuped wail escaped her.

“Your Majesty, I can carry her. We must go.”

Dimitri waved Dedue off, and tried to pick Flayn up himself, but jerked back when he was met with scorching heat. The same sort of heat Byleth had emitted before, when he was first turning. There would be no way to move her in this state, but he couldn't just leave her.

Dimitri pulled out the item Indech had given him, another thunderous roar echoed in the area. He unwrapped it to reveal a small gem. It was a brilliant red, glowing with some unknown power. There were patches of darker red, where something had dried on its surface. A gold insignia looked back up at him.

The realization of what he held rocked Dimitri to his core. This was no precious gem.

This was a crest stone, _Byleth’s crest stone._

The gaping wound on his chest… His stone had been removed.

Dimitri was quick to wrap it again, and stood.

“Dedue, listen to me very carefully.”

The man eyed Byleth, then nodded to him.

“Take this, take this and _run_. Leave Flayn and I, take this and protect it. No matter what happens to me. Save it and deliver it to Indech when the time is right. Do not let Rhea get her hands on it, under any circumstance, I beg of you.”

Dedue accepted the item, confusion plain on his face, “Dimitri, I will not leave you—”

“This is Byleth’s heart.”

Green eyes widened, and he stared down at the wrapped crest stone again, “That's impossible.”

“I do not understand it myself, but please, my friend. This must survive. Without it, there… We might not be able to bring Byleth back to us.”

Dedue closed his hands around it, white hair whipped around his conflicted features.

“If you will not do it for your King, then do it for your _friend_.”

After a tense moment, Dedue brought Dimitri into a one-armed hug. His grip was firm, and Dimitri returned it with all he had.

When they parted, Dedue nodded, “I will protect this with all that I am.”

“Thank you.”

Dimitri knelt back down beside Flayn, Dedue’s fading footsteps brought him some semblance of comfort. He tore off his cloak. It would not protect him fully from Flayn’s heat, but it was all he had. He wrapped it around his arms, and lifted her. The searing pain burning into his flesh through the layers of fabric was nothing, he imagined, compared to the pain she felt.

In her current state, if he brought her further into the monastery, the secret would be revealed.

Yet, as Byleth’s weight continued to break and crumble the monastery beneath him, he supposed there was no hiding their existence now. He tucked her close to his chest, where welts and blisters would undoubtedly fester and boil beneath the surface of his skin. And he ran.

There was a whistle in the air.

Behind him, Byleth’s tail tore through the bridge when it swung around. Dimitri ran, beneath his boots the carefully layn bricks began to give way as the entire structure started to collapse. Below, a chasm blanketed in mist so thick, one could scarcely see the bottom.

No matter how fast he ran, Dimitri knew he would not make it. But he would be damned if he brought Flayn to her death too. He adjusted his grip on her, the stinging in his arms had seeped into his bones, though he imagined that would no longer be a problem soon.

“My apologies, this will hurt,” Dimitri muttered to Flayn, and threw her.

As he had prayed, she landed just far enough to be on steady ground, and rolled a few times until she hit the stone wall. She’d be bruised, perhaps suffer a broken bone, but she would live.

There was a moment of weightlessness, when the bridge finally gave way beneath his feet. The air howled around his head, stone and wood fell around him as they plummeted to the valley far beneath.

He trusted his friends, they would get everyone out.

Dimitri prayed to the Goddess, if she even _existed_ anymore, that she would watch over Byleth. That she could bring him back to his senses.

He had expected agony, then nothing.

Yet, the pain he felt grabbing his biceps did not end. He opened his eyes, and the ground grew further away. Confused, Dimitri only had to glance at the thick plates covering white scales to know he would not die today. He couldn't see Claude from the angle they were at, only the silver armor covering Nendruil’s vulnerable underbelly.

“Care to explain _what_ is going on?” Claude hollered over the wind.

“I do not know!” Dimitri responded as they rose ever higher into the air, Nendruil’s wings tilted and they turned, flying closer to Byleth.

A flock of wyverns had grown around Byleth’s head, circling him as vultures.

“Claude! What are you doing?”

“Shit!” Claude cursed, followed by more undoubtedly vulgar language in Almyran, “Nendruil won't listen to me!”

The wyvern screeched, and pulled his reins from Claude’s grip, diving closer to Byleth’s horns. Dimitri’s breath caught in his throat, dangerously close as they were, Dimitri found himself thinking back to the book Byleth had taken from Enbarr. The massive four winged dragon, what had once been Sothis… _That_ was the dragon before them.

A being with the power to create The Valley of Torment, enough strength to raise mountains and level them with a flick of their wrist. One with control over the very flow of time itself.

_The Progenitor God._

“Claude, get us out of here!”

“I’m trying! He won't listen h-he’s never done this before!”

Dimitri could hear the panic in his voice. Byleth slammed the side of his head against the tallest spire, it crumbled, and Byleth let out another earth-shattering scream. So close, the sound was excruciating, Dimitri’s ears rang.

Something wasn't right.

Byleth continued to screech and roar, bringing talons up to rake against his neck as he hammered his head against the cathedral again and again.

_He was distressed._

“Didi!”

Dimitri’s eyes snapped below him, where Hapi had managed to get her pegasus to even out their wings beneath his feet. She extended a hand up, though wouldn't quite reach. Her mount whinied and shook her mane, armor clacking together when another screech tore through the air.

“I’ll have to come back around, hang on!”

She dove down, and circled back up, taking a wide arch. Dimitri doubted Hapi would be able to get her pegasus to come close enough to Nendruil. So, he ripped an arm from the talons gripping him. The nails tore from his flesh, but it was manageable. He could get stitches later. Dimitri muttered an apology to the wyvern, and slammed his fist against Nendruil’s ankle, the beast screeched and dropped him.

He landed on Hapi’s pegasus, barely. She had enough foresight to reach around and grab him before he slipped off, especially given the agony that shot up his spine when he landed.

“That was stupid,” She grunted, but turned her mount away from Byleth, “Shit like _this_ is why I stay underground.”

“This is _not_ his doing,” Dimitri rasped.

“... I know.”

“Wait!” Dimitri twisted to see where Nendruil joined the other wyverns circling around Byleth, “Claude’s still there! We need—”

“Already have him, Your Majesty,” Ingrid leveled her own pegasus beside Hapi’s, “You're lucky we saw you two.”

He was. Both of them were, Claude looked harrowed, but he was alive.

The women guided their steeds over the monastery, “Everyone is evacuated.”

Good.

There was a surge of wind, disturbing both pegasi. Dimitri stole a glance behind them, where Byleth’s wings began to flap, kicking up debris and small twisting pockets of air. His head craned away from them, looking out in the direction of Zanado.

The air swelled around them, then shoved them off-balance when Byleth took into the air. He swirled into the sky like a snake, and flew toward the Red Canyon. Leaving the rest of the cathedral to collapse in on itself.

Hundreds of years of history, gone.

“What is he doing?” Ingrid cried out, after she managed to get her mount under control, “Where is he going!?”

“Zanado,” Dimitri responded, “I think.”

“Why would anyone want to go there?” Hapi snorted.

“I… I am not so sure myself. Let us return to the others.”

They soared over Garreg Mach, tword Remire, though cut west before they actually reached the village proper. They landed in the dense forest surrounding the village. They were close to where Byleth had spent five years recovering, though Dimitri doubted they would have brought the entirety of Garreg Mach there.

As they pushed into the forest and came to a still-forming camp, Dimitri realized none of the refugees from the Monastery were there.

Ingrid must have seen his confusion and was quick to explain, “We had the knights take the civilians to Remire for now. We couldn't let them near… Well, you know.”

“And the mounts?”

“In Remire’s stables, though we couldn't wrangle any of the wyverns before they took off.”

Flayn had been fighting a transformation when he last saw her, he was glad they had the foresight to keep those not in the know away. He wondered, then, if the others had been in the same situation.

“You're safe!”

Dimitri grunted when Flayn darted from the fire she had been creating with Ferdinand, and slammed into his abdomen. He grunted, and set a hand on her shoulder, “So are you. I am glad.”

She pulled back, her arm was in a cast, but she no longer seemed to be in any pain. Her clothes were tattered where her transformation must have gotten the best of her, but she otherwise was fine.

“When I… I saw you fall, I was so scared. I thought you would die.”

A weight settled around his shoulders, “You can thank me for that one.”

Flayn’s eyes softened, and she moved to speak, though her words fell deaf on his ears when Dimitri’s eyes settled on Seteth. He had been present during the ritual, he had to know what happened. Dimitri shrugged off Claude’s arm, and closed the distance between them in a matter of steps.

Seteth’s clothing was tattered as well, his eyes flicked up to meet Dimitri’s, then glanced back down to the stakes he was shoving into the ground for tents.

“What happened?” He demanded.

When Seteth did not immediately respond, Dimitri pulled the man up by the back of his neck, “What. Happened.”

He allowed Seteth to break from his grasp, thick brows furrowed, “You have eyes, do you not?”

“Why did this happen? Byleth was supposed to be fine!” Dimitri’s voice cracked and rose as anger washed over him in burning waves, “Why was his crest stone taken?”

“I had not watched over him as I should have, Rhea—”

That was all he needed to hear.

That bitch, he would wring her neck. Maybe he should tear out her heart, give her a taste of Byleth’s agony.

“Where is she?”

“Dimitri listen to me—”

“No, I’ve had enough of that damn woman. Where. Is. She.”

“We need her alive.”

“No,” Dimitri laughed, “No we do not! After what she has done? She betrayed Byleth! She harassed him, belittled him, forced him to swallow his trauma… How _dare_ you think she deserves to live, especially now.”

Seteth’s eyes narrowed, “We need her.”

Dimitri tore at his hair, “No, you _want_ her alive.”

“Get a hold of yourself,” Seteth snapped, “You will leave her be! We need her, like it or not.”

Muscles in Dimitri’s body trembled, he _needed_ to kill her. That was the only way. She needed to pay for what she had done to Byleth, had done to them all. But no, he couldn't… He couldn't become a monster again, he needed to reign it in. She deserved the gallows, but he would not let himself become unhinged.

He couldn't breathe.

Dimitri’s arm shot out of its own accord, tightening around Seteth’s pale neck, “I will have her heart torn from her chest, nothing else would be fitting for her demise.”

Seteth said nothing.

“WHERE IS SHE?”

Nothing.

Dimitri’s mind raced, why was he not telling him where that damned woman was? Dimitri thought Seteth cared for Byleth.

Unless… Unless Seteth had been complacent in Rhea’s plan. Had he known the entire time? Was he simply playing sympathetic to earn their trust?

“You _bastard_ , you knew, didn’t you?”

Seteth’s eyes narrowed further, plumes of smoke escaped bared teeth, “I would never betray Byleth.”

“Then why? _Why_ are you protecting her!”

“Are you deaf?” Seteth snarled, sharp scales dug into Dimitri’s palm, “She is the strongest of us, like it or not. Without her, we may not be able to stop Byleth.”

_Stop_ Byleth?

Dimitri puffed out a snarl, “You plan to kill him.”

Seteth grabbed Dimitri’s wrist, “He is already dead Dimitri.”

Dimitri reeled, “No! You're wrong! He is still in there, I know he is!”

“Get your damn head out of your ass!” Seteth screeched, tearing Dimitri’s hand from his neck, “This is bigger than you, now. If that creature continues to run unchecked, he will destroy Fódlan, the _world_. Byleth died in the ritual, Dimitri, there is no bringing him back. You can grieve later, but now your people need you.”

“No,” Dimitri spat, “I refuse to believe that.”

“There is nothing _to_ believe, it is the truth. Rhea killed Byleth.”

Dimitri’s hands trembled, violent tremors assaulted his body. He couldn't believe that. He would _not_ believe that. There had to be a way, some way, to bring his Beloved back to him. It did not matter the cost, Dimitri would pay it in dividends.

He could not live without him.

“Th-the crest stone,” Dimitri pleaded, “Can we not just return it?”

Seteth’s brows furrowed, “It was lost in the struggle. Even if we could find it, in one piece no less, trying would be diving for a spindle in the ocean.”

“But there would be a chance,” Dimitri reiterated.

“I… Do not know,” Seteth frowned, “Do not tell me you intend to go back.”

“No, the crest stone isn't there. Even if I would, Byleth left the monastery regardless.”

“Where did he go?”

“Toward Zanado.”

Seteth cursed and ran a hand through his hair, “We must gather our weapons and prepare to march. I will return to the monastery to gather what weapons I may find.”

“How do I return the crest stone?” Dimitri grabbed Seteth’s arm before he could walk away in full.

The man frowned, “That is a lost cause Dimitri, give up.”

“I know where his stone is.”

“It doesn't matter,” Seteth’s shoulders fell, “Even if you had it on you now, it would change nothing. You can not implant a heart into a corpse and expect it to breathe life, Dimitri.”

“Is that not what Rhea did to him when he was a child?”

“Yes and no. What Rhea had done was vile, forbidden magic, not something I could ever allow to happen again. If you do have his stone, I beg of you to keep it to yourself, destroy it, if you can. It is the only mercy we can grant Byleth now.”

Dimitri’s grip tightened, “You're wrong. Byleth was disturbed when he climbed the cathedral, he was in pain, he was _distressed_. No corpse would ever show signs of that.”

“His body may be alive, in some way, but that does not mean Byleth himself is. He’s gone, Dimitri. Rhea killed him when she carved open his chest.”

“You _allowed_ her to kill him.”

Seteth tore his arm from Dimitri’s fist and snarled, “I had not known what she planned until it was too late! I tried, I _tried_ to save him! By the time I got to his side, and could even think about trying to heal him, he already was shifting. He was already gone.”

A bitter silence settled between them, only broken when Flayn spoke, her voice soft, “Father… Can't we at least _try_?”

Seteth’s brows furrowed, “Doing so would only result in more death. I am so sorry, but now, the biggest kindness we could offer him is to grace him a swift death, at least. He deserves to rest, now.”

Dimitri couldn't breathe. Seteth took his silence as compalancy, and spoke louder, addressing the camp, “Rest and gather your strength. I will return with weapons to march to battle.”

No one responded, and Seteth frowned. The tension was so thick, it could suffocate. Dimitri wondered what they all were thinking, how they felt hearing the truth. Were they enraged like him? Or did they too, think Byleth did not deserve at least a chance to come back to them, alive.

Seteth left then, not a further word to be said.

Heavy steps crunched through the snow and branches coating the forest bed. A gentle rap on his shoulder had Dimitri release the grip he had upon his own arms. Dedue placed the wrapped creststone within his palm.

Dimitri’s fingers tightened around it and brought the precious item to his chest. His head hung as he struggled to breathe, barely able to comprehend all that had happened. All that was still happening.

Byleth needed him.

The group disbanded, and he was guided away from where he stood, frozen, by a firm hand, and pushed to sit before the fire. Another hand grabbed his arm, cutting off his sleeve above the deep gashes left behind by Nendruil’s talons. The owner of the hands huffed, Mercedes, he realised.

“You should have taken a bit more care,” She scolded, and clicked a small wooden box beside her knee open.

Mercedes pulled out a thin string of twine, and looped it around an odd-looking needle, one he knew was used for sewing deep wounds shut. He had expected her to simply tie the open wounds together with her magic, as she had in the past. His expression must have relayed his confusion, as she simply chuckled.

“If… The coming battle will be as difficult as Seteth says, it will be best to conserve magic where I can. I’ll heal your wound once it’s stitched.”

“I will _not_ kill him.”

Mercedes did not respond as she continued her work.

Dimitri did not know the finer details of healing, to him stitching the wound up seemed to just be a waste of time. Though he would never question it, Mercedes had long since earned her place in their misfit gang as an excellent healer. He trusted her, so he remained still as she worked. Other than minor jerks or twitches of pain from needle piercing already burnt and sensitive flesh, he liked to think he did well.

“Where did the burns come from?”

Dimitri frowned, “Flayn, when she… When Nabateans transform they release a lot of heat, I guess. I had to carry her when the bridge was collapsing.”

“I see.”

The tension within the border of the camp was palatable. He knew the questions that they all longed to ask, Dimitri simply waited to see who would be the first to speak.

Unsurprisingly, a sword was plunged into the ground beside his thigh. Nowhere near close enough to be any sort of threat, but much like his apparent stomping around, or Byleth pulling at his hair, it was an expression of stress for Felix.

Dimitri braced for shouting, demanding answers, yet, there was only grunt when the man dropped himself beside him. Dimitri glanced from the corner of his eye to meet Felix’s, his expression pinched.

“What truly happened?” Mercedes asked, instead, as she tied off the thread she had used to sew him shut.

“I do not know for sure,” Dimitri swallowed, “But I have a good idea.”

“Spit it out then,” Felix snapped.

“Byleth was going to die, during the ritual. That was something we both knew going in. The plan had been to slit his throat, and kill his human form. His crest stone, then, ideally, would be able to ‘remake’ him into a Nabatean in full, as a sort of defense measure? Similar to how it had remade his body when he disappeared for five years during the war.”

“But… You have his crest stone now, right?” Ashe squatted beside Felix, and poked at the fire, adjusting the logs within the pit.

“Yes.”

Mercedes’ hand danced over his sensitive skin, soothing the pain there, “Why would she do such a horrible thing? That makes no sense.”

Dimitri’s knuckles popped when he clenched his fists, “Does it _matter_? She knew what would happen if she stole it… She knew it would kill him with utmost certainty.”

“But, he isn't dead yet, right?” Shamir spoke, both she and Catherine had been eerily silent, “So clearly something went wrong, or she had not intended to kill him.”

“The reason they were going to slit his throat was _because_ if his crest stone was disturbed in any way, he would be unable to regenerate.”

“She had to have her reasons,” Catherine tried, “Lady Rhea would never—”

Dimitri tore his arm from Mercedes’ grasp, and stood, “You know nothing! Or were you too blinded by your adoration for her to even think? To even notice what she was doing to Byleth?”

Catherine’s hand went to her sword instinctively, and wrapped around the silver handle, “She had been protecting him!”

“How was force-feeding him protecting him?” He roared and grabbed the insignia clasp at her collarbone, pulling her close with bared teeth, “Byleth couldnt so much as take a fucking bath without her watching him, he couldn’t leave his room, he couldn’t eat, he couldn’t do _anything_ on his own.”

Catherine faltered, “She had her reasons, I know—”

Dimitri shoved her away, she stumbled back though remained upright.

“You're vile,” He spat, “Are you so blinded by devotion to her, that you can not even think for yourself? Tell me what reasons she would have had to betray Byleth? Betray all of us?”

She tightened the grip on her sword, but before she spoke, Shamir cut her off, “Enough. Both of you.”

“What, do you too believe she is innocent?” Dimitri snarled.

“I’m a mercenary, I owed her a life-debt, but I never _once_ have blindly followed her. She had earned my respect and my debt, but not my loyalty,” her voice was eerily calm as she spoke, “Neither me nor my partner are blind to what she has done.”

“Shamir…”

“Do not pretend we have not already discussed this in full,” Shamir snapped, “It is pointless to save face now.”

Catherine didn't respond further, so Dimitri turned his back to them and dropped down before the fire again. Without a word, Mercedes took his arm and resumed her healing.

“Did… Did Lady Rhea really do all of that?” She asked, quiet.

“Byleth has only ever been a vassal for Sothis in her eyes, I think,” He muttered, “That is, in truth, why he lives today.”

“Didn't she say she implanted the crest stone to save him originally?”

“His mother was created to become the Goddess, but she was not strong enough I suppose,” Dimitri closed his eyes, and let his now-healed arm just rest on her lap, “Maybe it started off like that, maybe she genuinely wanted Byleth to live then. But somewhere along the way, she lost sight of that.”

“No, I don't think she ever intended for Byleth to be anything but the Goddess,” Claude squatted down beside Mercedes, a blessed bow over his knees.

“You sound sure of yourself,” Dimitri grunted, though he frankly believed as Claude did.

“How could I _not_ be?” Claude narrowed his eyes and held his bow up, undoubtedly inspecting for any damage, “Rhea knew Byleth would have been stilborn, if not a miscaraige, right? Yet from what I remember, not a damn word of that was spoken in Jeralt’s journal. He didn't know, and if Byleth’s mother had any respect for the late captain, she would have told him if she did. That leads me to believe she had no idea. They _both_ had been ecstatic to have a child on the way, according to his journal.”

Right, Dimitri had forgotten about Jeralt’s journal.

“Knowing what would have happened, I doubt the pregnancy would have been as celebrated by Jeralt as it was.”

“So she toyed with all of them then,” Lysithea spat from the far edge of their campsite, “They weren't anything to her.”

The camp fell quiet once more, tension that had once drawn tight between them had snapped into something bitter. Something angry. Dimitri would never wish his demons among his friends, though he would not lie in taking comfort in that his rage was justified.

Dimitri stared into the flames, alone with his thoughts. He couldn't imagine the agony his Beloved felt now. Did he feel pain? Seteth said he was not alive, yet if he wasn't, then what was he now? An animated corpse?

That didn't seem right. Byleth expressed pain or _some_ sort of distress at least, no corpse would behave like that. He had to be alive, he had to be in there somewhere. Dimitri knew it in his very core.

Had… Had Byleth been conscious, when Rhea tore his heart out?

The very notion made him nauseous. His death was initially meant to be quick and relatively painless, so as far as Dimitri was aware, they had no plans to induce sleep. Then, they wouldn't have had the supplies to do so.

If they _did_ , then that would mean Seteth truly had been an accessory to Byleth’s torture.

Horrid, were the two evils before him. One, his love had been conscious when Rhea tore his heart out from his chest, undoubtedly carving him open like a fresh kill. The other possibility was more betrayal, more lies and deceit that perhaps ran deeper than Dimitri could ever fathom.

He ran a hand through his hair.

It felt as though years and no time at all had passed when Seteth returned to the camp with his brothers and daughter in tow. No sign of Rhea, Dimitri’s fists clenched.

“We’ve returned.”

“Why didn't you stop her?” Dimitri snarled, and made a motion to stand, but Mercedes yanked him back down.

Seteth seemed surprised by the sudden accusation. He gestured to Indech and Macuil to set the bags they had carried over their shoulders down. It clanked with weapons and armor.

“I did not realize what she had intended to do, until it was far too late, as I said,” Seteth responded, “Byleth did not allow her to do such a vile act so easily, if it is of any consolation. Bit off three of her fingers.”

“She deserves worse,” Dimitri snarled.

“Yes,” Seteth closed his eyes, “However, now is not the time to dole out punishment. We have brought more armor and weapons, for those lacking it.”

Seteth placed his own bag on the ground, and began to shuffle through it, not a soul moved when Indech and Macuil sorted out the weapons and armor they had acquired. Seteth pulled a lance with a blade crafted of brilliant green, and a shield of a similar sheen. They were kept separate from the standard battlegear he and his brothers had obtained.

Dimitri rose and inspected the two unusual weapons, “What are these?”

“The relics crafted from Byleth.”

_Relics?_

“You… Were supposed to destroy them,” Dimitri rumbled.

“We did,” Seteth responded, “These two are the ones he wanted to remain intact.”

Dimitri’s eyes narrowed, “Why bring them? Why would you even _touch_ weapons of such depravity?”

“We will need them,” Seteth folded the empty bag up and tossed it to the side, “If Byleth himself is anything like the relics crafted of him, your weapons may do nothing to him. And… To kill him, we will need this.”

Dimitri stared down at the weapon before him. Conflicted, Dimitri knelt beside the lance. Like Itzel, he could feel the warmth coming from the weapon when his hand hovered over it. He swallowed and wrapped his fingers around the silver shaft, pulling back and running his gloved hand over the opalescent sheen of the blade.

It was beautiful, in a haunting way, even knowing how it was created.

He would bring Byleth back to them, or die trying.

Yet, without having any way of defending himself against the dangers he may face whilst he tried, he knew he’d need something. Dimitri accepted the lance without any further protest.

Holding the weapon, despite knowing it to undoubtedly be a formidable defense if he needed to fight, brought bile to his throat. He held it and dug the staff of the lance into the snow and leaflitter at their feet.

No one moved to grab a weapon.

Seteth stood, sensing the hesitation, or perhaps anger, that had settled over the camp as a blanket, “I do not plan on having any of you fight unless there is no choice. Ideally, my siblings and I will be able to… Finish the deed. However, if we perish, it will fall upon your shoulders to stop him.”

When not a soul moved, not even Catherine, Seteth sighed, “I see. I do not fault you for such ideals, if I had any other choice, I would take it.”

“Then allow us to return his heart, or at least try.”

“I can not allow you to partake in such a suicidal mission, Dimitri. You are a _King_ , do not forget. If you were to fail, you would die. You would leave the entirety of Fóldan without a ruler, freshly after you had liberated them.”

“Would trying to kill him not be just as dangerous, if not more so?”

Seteth did not respond. Instead, he turned to his siblings, “He was last seen toward Zanado, we must move, quickly.”

As they moved to leave the camp, Flayn darted from her father’s side, coming to stand beside Dimitri. Her small hands gripped the simple tunic she wore over fresh black trousers and boots.

Seteth startled at the movement, then sighed, “It is for the best you stay here, Flayn. I agree, the battlefield will be too dangerous.”

“Do not mistake me Father, I do not stand here from fear of a fight, nor fear of death, but of loyalty. Loyalty to the Professor that saved my life all those years ago, and loyalty to the men I have come to call my brothers. I will not partake in senseless slaughter if there is a chance to save him, no matter how small the chances are. The Byleth I know is full of miracles, I _know_ he can pull through.”

Seteth frowned, his mouth opened to speak, then, to Dimitri’s surprise, Macuil stepped from his side to join Flayn, “She has a point, Cihol. As much as the creature unnerves me, does it not deserve a chance for life?”

Indech left Seteth’s side next, “This may be our only chance to right all of Seiros’ wrongdoings. We’ve turned a blind eye for too long, I think.”

Seteth stood there, alone in his conviction. Yet, his expression faltered, and Dimitri realized perhaps said convictions were not as solid as Dimitri had accused.

He stepped forward and offered a hand, “Suicidal or not, let us at least try.”

Silence settled between them, Seteth’s eyes darted to the faces gathered at Dimitri’s back. He did not have to look behind him to know they all held the same conviction, the unwavering desire to save their former professor. Their _friend_.

Seteth’s hand was warm when it grabbed his in a firm grip, “Very well. This is stupid, foolish, and damn well may be a lost cause, but… You are right, we owe it to him to try. We will have to contest Rhea, she is… She is no longer able to be reached.”

Dimitri frowned, a part of him _hoped_ she got in their way, so he’d be justified in tearing her heart out.

He refrained from speaking such thoughts, instead, he inquired, “What do you mean?”

“She’s lost to her madness,” Seteth pulled his hand back, “I could not begin to guess at her reasonings, but she is past the point of caring for Byleth… If she ever did, I suppose. All she wants is his death.”

“If she stands in our way, you will not stop me from killing her.”

Seteth hesitated, clearly conflicted, then after a heavy moment, he nodded, “No, I will not.”

“Armor up,” Dimitri commanded, turning to his people, “We depart at once.”

* * *

Dimitri finally understood the danger they all were truly in.

Zanado was destroyed. There was no other way to describe the carnage that lain before them. Chunks of ruins and stone alike hovered in the air where their grip to the earth had not been strong enough. Massive spires of earth floated aimlessly over the crater that had been created.

Byleth sat in the epicenter, motionless. His neck stretched up toward the heavens, facing the sky as though he were in a trance. Heedless of the swarm of wyverns that flew around his head and body. Like bees around their queen.

The cliff they were on shook, and after a deafening crack, another slice of the canyon broke away, floating toward Byleth to join the others.

He was doing _nothing_ , and yet the earth around him was falling in upon itself. Breaking away against the constant waves of magic crashing over it.

Just existing in silence was destroying the land.

“How… Is this possible?” Ashe asked, somewhere behind him.

“This is the strength of a God uncontested,” Seteth explained, “ _This_ is Byleth’s true power, but without his heart to help him properly command it, the magic runs freely.”

Dimitri’s hand moved to rest against his breastplate, behind it he had tucked Byleth’s crest stone against his chest, just above his own heart, “There is no way he does not know of our presence. He has not attacked. Allow me to go down and confront him alone.”

“Absolutely not,” Seteth snapped, “Approaching him would undoubtedly anger him, if not the wyverns. That would be suicide.”

“Attacking him will provoke without a doubt, if this is the power he wields just… Just _sitting_ there, then if disturbed, would that not cause more damage? Let me try,” Dimitri demanded, “He… He will not hurt me.”

“That isn't Byleth, Dimitri,” Indech warned, “It has no concept of you, or anyone else. It is functioning on instincts alone, at best.”

“You're wrong, he was distressed when he climbed the Cathedral. He’s still in there, no matter how little there may be, if even just a sliver remains, he would not attack us unless attacked first.”

Seteth huffed, smoke curled from his lips and scales dotted his skin as heat from his magic swelled in the air.

Dimitri shielded his face from the scorching light, then lowered his arm when Seteth stood in his true form, _“Very well, but I will not allow you to go alone.”_

Dimitri would have thanked him, if not for the shadow that passed over their head. The thunder of wings beat down upon them as the dragon tilted it’s body and dove into the canyon.

_Rhea._

Rhea was huge, the largest of her siblings, yet even she looked as a mere child when compared against Byleth’s towering form. She drew close, a flash of light shot from her open mouth, and an explosion of fire and smoke rocked Byleth’s motionless body. Dimitri was kept from almost jumping from the cliff Dedue’s firm hands upon his arms.

She was ruining _everything_!

If Byleth went on the attack, they may be unable to reach him unharmed.

Magic buzzed around them when Byleth stumbled, the earth shook. For a moment, there was silence, all was still. Then, it wasn't.

Byleth rose to his full height, the ground shook and chunks of the cliff began to crumble and break away with renowned vigor, tearing from the earth to swirl around Byleth as he stood. There was another burst of flames as Rhea wheeled around the back of his head, and he stumbled once more.

Yet… He wasn't fighting back. The only sort of opposition she seemed to face as far as Dimitri could tell were the wyverns swarming her. Yet she easily tossed those that came too close aside, their bodies falling to the earth when she tore at them with her talons.

“We must hurry,” Seteth urged and lowered his body for Dimitri to scramble upon.

Hot air pulsed through the space around them, the others transforming into their true forms, perhaps to try and distract Rhea whilst he and Seteth approached Byleth himself. The ground shook again, and the cliff began to deteriorate. Seteth stumbled back, and was swift to knock as many of Dimitri’s companions back from the edge, Macuil and Indech doing the same.

There was a smaller flash of white, and Dimitri was no longer on Seteth’s back.

Grasped in small black talons, pearlescent scales shone on either side of his head, where Flayn held him. There was a cry behind him, but Flayn’s wings only beat faster.

_“I am the fastest,”_ She explained to the wind, _“I will stop Rhea.”_

Air whistled around his head as Flayn carried him, wind tugged at his hair, his armor, his skin. It burned a bit, but he would not complain. Not now, not when she was the one ferrying him to his goal. He needed to get to Byleth.

There was a surge of magic again when Rhea fired another blast at Byleth, at his husband. Byleth stumbled again, but as before, did not fight back, only ducked his head beneath her flames.

_“Rhea!”_ Flayn screamed, to no response.

She rose further up into the sky, and managed to stabilize herself before the maniac, wings and fins alike fanning out to keep her steady as she flapped. Another blast died in the woman’s throat.

She spit out smoke and snarled, _“Move Cethleann, he must be killed.”_

_“No! Seiros, stop this nonsense! He doesn't want to fight you! He’s not even defending himself, please stop!”_

_“If he is not killed, our entire world will perish,”_ The dragon rumbled.

_“There's another way! Dimitri has his crest stone, if we can—”_

_“ **You**.”_

Black eyes zeroed in on Dimitri, his hair stood on end. Goosebumps littered his skin whilst she stared at him, there was a shift in her shoulders, a tilt of her wings, then, screams.

Rhea lunged at them, her talons dragging along white, green burst into his vision and he was falling. He expected to hit a rock, or the ground, and die. It was odd, experiencing the same weightlessness of falling again. He landed on something soft, but found himself still moving as white filled his vision.

He grunted when his back hit rock, and blinked the dots from his vision. He struggled to breathe, the wind so thoroughly knocked from his lungs. But he was alive, and once he managed to regain his breath, managed to push himself to his knees. Nothing was broken, a bit bruised at worst.

It was then he realized where he had landed.

The earth was so very far below, too far below. He knelt upon a boulder, torn from the earth to float in the sky among other rocks and fragments of a lost civilization. Feathers briefly swept past him, kicking up a fierce enough wind that if he had been standing, he likely would have been knocked from the perch he so precariously found himself on.

Byleth had _saved_ him.

A massive talon brushed against the rock he balanced upon, and Byleth’s head lowered to better gaze at him. Dimitri had never felt so small in his life, staring up at Byleth’s true form. The single talon resting just on the edge of the rock was easily twice his own height, perhaps more.

Byleth’s head tilted, and their eyes met. His pupils were barely visible, feral in their nature. Dimitri shakily stood, and the thin line of black followed his movement. Dimitri reached into his armor and pulled out the crest stone, still wrapped in cloth as it was.

“Byleth,” He called above the roaring wind and howls of ancient magic, “ _Please_ , let me return your heart.”

The dragon blinked, then slowly, pushed the floating rock down. Dimitri took knee again to keep himself from falling, as the sliver of earth was pushed down, down until he was positioned just before the massive hole on Byleth’s chest.

Dimitri scrambled to unwrap the stone, but Byleth jerked and fumbled, a shadow casting over him as Byleth rose a wing. He heard the sound of an explosion.

Rhea.

Rage unlike anything he had felt before coursed through him, how dare she. How _dare_ she, even now, even when Byleth had more than proven he was still in there, still _alive…_ The sheer _gall_ she had to still attack him.

Dimitri threw out an arm to steady himself as Byleth released the rock and whirled on Rhea’s form. He screamed and the sound was shattering. The earth cracked and Dimitri felt a bit of his own slice of land crumble a bit.

Pain, anger, frustration, and perhaps most of all, fear. All of those emotions were coiled within that single sound.

Byleth spread his wings and lurched into the sky, going after Rhea as she narrowly dodged his attack.

He dove after her, the two twisting in the sky as Rhea desperately sought to escape Byleth’s grasp.

She never had any hope of outrunning Byleth, he overtook her within mere seconds. Swirling light formed in the back of Byleth’s throat when he opened his mouth, and a single beam shot down into the earth. The explosion from the single firing blast shook the ground and air around them.

The heat bursting from that single blast was as though he were laying upon an open flame. He tried to shield himself as best he could, barely managing to stay on the floating debris as it shot away from the sheer force of the blast.

Rhea’s limp form careened toward the earth, Byleth still chasing it. Talons dung into white scales and pulled. The tips of where he had embedded himself in Rhea’s skin caught and green burst from her body when Byleth tore her clean in half.

The being once known as the _Immaculate One_ , gone. Defeated as though she had been nothing more than simple prey. A mouse in the grasp of an eagle.

Byleth slammed into the ground, dust and smoke kicked up in swirls of black up as he landed in the smouldering ash left behind from the blast. The earth trembled beneath his force.

Distant screams of anguish echoed somewhere in the canyon, yet all fell still when Byleth lifted his head, eyes wild with bloodlust.

There was no trace left of Byleth in those eyes, when they rose at met his own.

Dimitri shakily pushed himself to his feet, and desperately unwrapped the creststone. It burned, no longer using the cloth to keep it protected, holding the heart bare in his hand.

He was about to do something very, _very_ stupid.

Dimitri raised the hand above his head, and Byleth’s eyes shot to it. Winds whipped around him when Byleth’s wings flapped, Dimitri only just managed to keep upright. Byleth’s body adjusted and in a burst of strength, the dragon shot into the air. Dimitri’s breath was stolen when from a blink to the next, Byleth was upon him, massive talons breaking the rock as he struggled to climb upon such a miniscule slice of land.

It crumbled, and Dimitri fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what, did you think this was going to be easy?
> 
> My [Twitter](https://twitter.com/vulturepops)


	25. Ghost of a God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Come now, let me get a look at you. It has been a while since I’ve seen your face, Little King.”
> 
> For reasons beyond him, Dimitri moved. He climbed the stairs, coming to a stop before the girl on the throne. She smiled, her cheek supported by her hand where she lent on the arm of her perch. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders, longer than practical, dainty and pointed ears peeked out from the green curls.
> 
> Dimitri had never seen this girl before, and yet… She seemed so familiar. Like Dimitri was supposed to know who she was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'ALL COME CHECK OUT THESE AMAZING FANTARTS BY @TheSmithKnight1 ON TWITTER!!
> 
> [Link](https://twitter.com/TheSmithKnight1/status/1293500700064993282) and [Link](https://twitter.com/TheSmithKnight1/status/1291218109819498496)

The monastery was warm, this time of day. People bustled around, some clung to the shadows, often in small groups, chatting to each other silently.

There was a heavy tension in the air, one Dimitri could not quite place a finger on. He rubbed his eye, everything seemed smokey, colors washed out, just enough to be annoying. It wasn't the first time such a thing has happened to his good eye, he’d gone long periods refusing to blink in the past. Terrified of what laid in wait behind his eyelids.

It wasn't something Byleth knew about, he didn't think. He couldn't remember all that happened when he tore his eye out. Despite the pain, he had managed to get the first one out, and perhaps tried on his second before he eventually passed out. Maybe he had done some sort of damage to it, something invisible that would one day leave him blind.

He didn't want to think about it.

Behind him was the steady tap of boots, a familiar, confidant stride. He turned to see Byleth walk past him, the sight of his husband warmed his heart.

“Hey, Professor,” Catherine called to the man, from where she perched at one of the tables.

Byleth paused at her side.

It had been a long time since Dimitri had seen him in his usual armor, his hair seemed a bit shorter than he recalled too. Ah, perhaps he had gotten it cut.

“Is it true?” Catherine swirled whatever liquid she had inside the tankard, it barely managed to keep from sloshing outside the mug, “We’re going to Fhirdiad.”

Fhirdiad? What reason would she have to travel there? Much less her _and_ Byleth?

Dimitri approached the table, “Afternoon.”

Neither so much as looked at him, confused and frankly a bit hurt, he cleared his throat. Still nothing.

“Yes.”

Catherine sighed, and Dimitri began to panic. He waved a hand in front of Byleth’s face, and there was no reaction at all. Like he… Wasn't even there.

Dimitri reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, yet found the limb simply passing through him.

He jerked back at the cold that washed over his hand where he had tried to make contact with Byleth. What in _Ailell_?

“Look, I get why we’re going but… Well, I just can't approve of it,” Catherine gestured to the bench across from her and after a moment, Byleth took the seat.

“It will bolster our forces,” Byleth grunted.

Bolster forces? Forces for what?

“Tactically sound move, yeah. But I…” Catherine scowled at her drink, “But I’d rather just go straight to Enbarr.”

Byleth nodded, “I understand.”

“ _Do_ you? I would do anything for Lady Rhea, I would kill for her without a single question, I’d die for her.”

“I understand,” Byleth repeated, firmer this time.

Catherine’s eyes rose to meet Byleth’s, then she offered a small half smile, “Yeah, I guess you do, huh? With that Prince of yours.”

_Prince?_

Dimitri was no moron, his mind raced as he rapidly began to fill in the missing puzzle pieces. This wasn't… He wasn't where he should be in time. He was seeing a memory maybe. Was it Byleth’s memory?

“Yes,” Byleth responded.

_Clever man._

Dimitri was in the cathedral now. The massive hole in the ceiling was back, or… Perhaps not repaired yet. He strode down the aisle, trying to get some sort of bearing on what was happening. There were few people in the room, all kept by the entrance, too frightened to make their way toward the center.

Where Byleth passed his side to reach and… See him.

Dimitri remembered being ill. More than most probably believed, or, _wanted_ to believe. He remembered how poorly he took care of himself, he had only desires for revenge, to silence their pleas for justice. For Edelgard’s head.

Yet seeing himself, it sunk in just how far low he had stooped.

Even from where he stood frozen, among the pews, he could see the mats in his hair, the dark splotches of blood from a previous battle. His cloak was torn up the side, and when his face turned to regard Byleth’s presence beside him, blood and dirt caked the part of his jaw Dimitri could see.

It was unnerving.

Dimitri had seen himself in a mirror more than once, yet looking upon his own face, his own body as Byleth would see him… It disgusted him. How did Byleth find any sort of compassion for _that_ thing?

The man’s lips pulled back in a snarl, “Go away.”

Byleth did not respond, instead he pulled a small box from his jacket and opened it.

Dimitri crept closer to peer inside, only to find medical supplies within the box. The Boar, a fitting name Dimitri mused, spat in Byleth’s direction and turned away.

Dimitri wanted to punch him.

Byleth did not react, instead he knelt and set the small case beside his feet. The moment it left his hands the Boar kicked it, scattering the bandages, twine, and vials across the floor.

Byleth frowned, “You have to get that healed.”

“Leave me.”

Byleth snorted, “I will, _if_ you prove capable of dressing your own wounds.”

“Such efforts are wasted when I could be hunting that damn woman down.”

“Dying will not further your objective, Dimitri.”

The Boar scoffed, “If I die then at least I would be left in blessed silence.”

Byleth did not respond, only gathering the supplies back up, setting them in the little wooden box Byleth had carried.

“We can either heal you now, and I will leave you for the rest of the night. Or, I will bring you to the baths and you will be miserable.”

“Is that a _threat_?”

Byleth stood, box in hand, with a hard set on his brow, “That depends on you, Dimitri.”

Dimitri remembered what came of that, it had been his first bath in… Well, Dimitri couldn't remember how long it had been. Likely a month, if not longer.

_It had been the first bath since Byleth found you, of that I am sure. You reeked._

Guard Captain Alois’ office looked different from last he was there.

The pile of books to the left of the desk was gone, no mountains of unattended paperwork, nor the box of chocolates he kept on the bookshelf were to be seen. Dimitri stepped to approach the desk further, when a soft sound just to his left snapped his attention to the couches.

If Dimitri had not believed he were living through memories before, the sight of Byleth’s dark hair damn well convinced him.

The man was hunched over, face in hands. A half-eaten bowl of porridge was left on the table utop a long hand-written note. Another sound, a desperate attempt to keep himself from sobbing, was all Dimitri needed to know to realize where he was.

_When_ he was.

Dimitri knelt beside the couch, his heart broke at his husband’s shaking shoulders. He wanted nothing more than to gather the man in his arms and hold him, promise him it will be alright. Promise him that no matter the trials ahead he’d find happiness again.

But he couldn't.

A knock on the door drew both of their attention. Byleth was swift to wipe his eyes, though it did not help the redness growing around them, and coraked out, “Come in.”

Dimitri remembered visiting Byleth, after Jeralt died. He had been so infuriated then, it had been a break from his own shadows. He had been willing to drop everything to bring Byleth his revenge. To deliver the head of whoever had killed Jeralt to him, like a mutt bringing back a fresh kill, eager for praise of a job well done.

Yet, the man that stepped through the door was a surprise. Claude sheepishly shut the door behind him, not meeting Byleth’s quiet gaze.

Claude looked so young, his cheeks still soft with baby fat, no facial hair, and an awkwardness to his gait long lost with age. It was hard to imagine the Claude he knew now as someone so little. Nothing more than a child.

Byleth held a hand out, from where he sat on the couch. No words spoken. Claude flinched, but procured a leatherbound journal from his satchel and placed it gingerly back in Byleth’s hand. Once he had it, his Husband ( _eventual_ Husband) curled himself in on the item.

Dimitri had seen the journal enough times to recognize it.

How could he have taken such a thing, right after Jeralt’s death no less? Dimitri knew Claude to be one hungry for information, and willing to do anything for it, yet… To steal the journal of a dead man whilst his son still grieved?

That was _beyond_ abhorrent.

“I… I’m sorry teach, I didn't think you’d…” Claude trailed off.

Byleth did not respond.

“I read it,” He admitted, quiet, “I’m sorry.”

Byleth still did not speak. Dimitri wanted to kick Claude from the room, demand answers, ask how he could have done such a thing. But he couldn't.

Claude shuffled closer to the couch, then after a moment, sat beside Byleth on it.

“So?” Byleth’s voice cracked when he spoke.

Claude stared at him, wide eyed, “So…?”

“You have questions?”

“Well yeah but I… Listen Teach, I have so many things I want the answer to, but I’m not going to hound you for information now.”

Byleth grunted.

“Khalid.”

Byleth rose his head, eyes glossy and red.

“Khalid Owais,” Claude repeated, “That’s my real name.”

“Why tell me?”

“A secret for a secret, Teach.”

“... Do not steal my things again.”

Claude— _Khalid_ —nodded, “I won't.”

_**I** had been furious, frankly. Had Byleth let me, I would have given that child the tonguelashing of a lifetime. He’s lucky he grew out of being such a brat._

The voice again. A girl, Dimitri believed. He had never heard it before, had she spoken to the other memories?

_Ah, so you’ve taken notice, finally._

The color bled from the Guardcaptain’s quarters, leaving him alone in darkness.

No, darkness wasn't quite right.

Dimitri could see fine, small dots of light twirled in the air, illuminating a soft mist that coated the ground around him when they floated on by. Dimitri had never seen them before Garreg Mach, fireflies, he recalled.

He reached out to touch one, but hissed and jerked his hand from the light, the flame danced from his grasp. He shook his hand to soothe the burn, and a chuckling snort drew his attention behind him.

A staircase?

His eyes rose up along the steps, at the top sat a young girl on a throne. The throne looked familiar in a way Dimitri could not quite place.

“No wonder my Byleth is so besotted with you,” She hummed, “You two are so very much alike.”

_Her_ Byleth? The impudence.

The child laughed, “Oh please, that possessiveness of yours is not needed. He has eyes but only for you, besides, he is akin to a son to me.”

Dimitri would have been embarrassed at being called out so blatantly, had he not found himself so confused. Like a son? Who was this kid?

“Come now, let me get a look at you. It has been a while since I’ve seen your face, Little King.”

For reasons beyond him, Dimitri moved. He climbed the stairs, coming to a stop before the girl on the throne. She smiled, her cheek supported by her hand where she lent on the arm of her perch. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders, longer than practical, dainty and pointed ears peeked out from the green curls.

Dimitri had never seen this girl before, and yet… She seemed so familiar. Like Dimitri was supposed to know who she was.

“Come now, take a guess. You are a smart man, I am sure you can figure it out,” The girl purred, her grin was teasing, though as far as Dimitri could tell, genuine.

The throne, he had seen it in the Goddess’ Tomb.

Before he could even consider taking a knee before the Goddess, she prevented him from doing so with a hand on his arm, “Come now. No need for that, you are kin.”

“I-I am?”

She laughed again, “Did you think I was excluded when you married into the family?”

Dimitri opened his mouth, then decided against it, lest he said something stupid. The moment of silence gave him time to actually process what laid around him. He was still in some sort of void, the Goddess was on her throne, right in front of him. Said Goddess had inhabited Byleth’s body for some time, then didn't? Or did she still?

“You have questions, do ask them before you give yourself a migraine.”

“Where am I?”

She leant back, straightening herself to fit the posture more befitting of a Goddess, “Somehow, you are within the crest stone. Or, a part of you is, at least.”

That made absolutely no sense.

“I do not quite understand this myself,” she pursed her lips, “But nonetheless, here you are. _How_ you’ve managed to do this is absolutely beyond me, though perhaps… This is not your doing, but rather Byleth’s. He has quite the knack for finding the worst ways of breaking rules.”

“... I was seeing Byleth’s memories.”

“Correct, you got a bit lost making your way to me, and wandered through some.”

“ _You're_ alive.”

The Goddess honked a laugh, “In a manner of speaking, yes! As are all whose crest stone remains. Though in truth, I am more of a passenger here, this crest stone is no longer mine, nor would I wish it to be.”

Dimitri rubbed his forehead, this all was a lot to unpack. Yet he did not find himself as stressed or perhaps frustrated as he felt he should have been, or would have been normally. He did not feel his emotions dulled either, he simply was not upset.

Then it hit him. Panic welled up in his chest, “Byleth! What of Byleth, is he alright?”

The Goddess snorted, then closed her eyes, “Yes, his body is largely unharmed. He is… Ah let's see… He is laying in the canyon right now, unconscious I believe, but yes, unharmed. My daughter could never have hoped to take Byleth down herself.”

Bile welled up in the back of his mouth, “Good, she deserved worse than what Byleth gave.”

When the Goddess’ eyes opened again, Dimitri couldn't quite figure out what emotion she displayed. Anger, perhaps? Ah, right. That was her daughter, Dimitri might have felt a bit guilty for saying such thoughts to her face, though he would not regret thinking them.

“My apologies, I should not have—”

“I can hear your thoughts boy, an empty apology is as useless as it is annoying.”

Dimitri snapped his mouth shut.

The Goddess reclined back on her throne, “It would do _you_ well not to underestimate her either. So long as her crest stone remains intact, she is able to regenerate herself, given the time. That said, I can not disagree. What she has done is vile and inexcusable.”

“Byleth tore her clean in two, I saw it myself.”

“... And?”

“How could she recover from that? It is impossible, surely.”

“The Nabatean people are not easy to kill, _my_ children in particular,” The Goddess hummed, and suddenly he was in a field.

The tang of weapons clashing and screams of those dying were a shock to Dimitri, as he whirled around to better orient himself. Rhea, in her dragon form, was fighting demonic beasts, she tore at their limbs, snarling and spitting as she fought. The sword of the creator shot into the skull of one just as the wall protecting Garregg Mach crumbled.

Dimitri knew exactly when this was.

Rhea tore off the remaining creatures with ease, _“Why have you come?”_

Byleth’s furrowed brow spoke of his confusion, he opened his mouth to speak, though stopped and turned. It was then Dimitri noticed the magic crackling in the air, a man Dimitri had never seen fired some sort of dark magic at Byleth.

The man grunted at the force, but managed to keep himself from falling from the cliffside, blocking the worst of the blast with his sword. Though, the magic’s aftershock cracked the earth at his feet, and Byleth fell with a scream. That sound had haunted Dimitri for five long years.

Dimitri had never known what had happened, just that Byleth had fallen and screamed, but never the details. Never that he had been attacked. Dimitri wanted to kill that bastard, yet, in all his battles he fought, that man had never shown his face again. Who was he?

It didn't matter.

He was at the bottom of the cliff now, and Byleth’s broken body laid just before him. Bloody sinews of flesh and muscle painted the rocks around him, stone pierced his shoulder and abdomen, painting them dark with his blood. An arm was gone, lost among the rubble and the fall, his head barely hung onto the rest of his body, the flash of white from his spine may very well be all that held it onto him.

Dimitri lurched, nausea assaulting his senses. Byleth’s eyes were open, but glossy and dead. Yet, despite the damage, he could see the faint rise and fall of his chest, could hear the strangled gurgling attempts to breath. Dimitri tried to go to his side, to comfort him, assure him he’d be alright, but he couldn't move.

_It has already happened, you do not wield the power to change the past._

The earth at his feet shifted. Spires of cristal began to form, bringing Byleth’s broken body into its depths to keep him safe. Dimitri didn't want to see any more, he couldn't stomach the sight.

Dimitri stood before the Goddess and her throne again.

He was going to vomit.

“Unless the crest stone is damaged, we can recover from rather impossible things. Such is in our blood.”

Dimitri drew in a steadying breath, and once he no longer reeled, spoke again, “Byleth will make a full recovery, then?”

“Yes, so long as the stone is… Oh!” The girl stood, “That must be why you are here, of course!”

“Why I’m here?” Dimitri furrowed his brows, this was beyond his comprehension, though he found himself wondering, “Am I dead?”

“No, _of course_ not.”

Dimitri must have allowed a bit of his irritation to seep onto his face, as the Goddess laughed and clarified.

“No, you would be unable to maintain a conscious presence here if you had perished. You are unconscious, though likely stable. Perhaps injured some, but I am unsure.”

“You can't tell? You could with Byleth.”

“Byleth and I are one in the same, I feel what he does, I see what he does. If only subconsciously, unless I decide to pay particular attention. Though my presence within him is faint, and fading.”

“Ah.”

“You are here to ferry his heart to where it belongs,” She spoke, and with a wave of her hand, a softly glowing stone appeared before him.

Dimitri immediately recognized it and held his bare palms out, the stone settled against his skin, no burning, not even any discomfort. Odd.

“Now then, you must take it to him.”

Dimitri glanced around the encompassing darkness, then back to the Goddess. She seemed a bit bemused, then stood from her throne, “I can guide you, though it must be you who delivers the heart to him.”

She trotted down the stairs, and Dimitri followed.

The darkness did not let up, even as the give of whatever laid beneath them began to change. No longer solid as stone, it seemed softer now, as though walking along sand blacker than night. Mist continued to ploom around them, reflecting the color the magic particles cast upon it.

Water lapped at their feet as the ocean came into view. He hesitated, but a tug on his arm kept him walking behind the Goddess, as she strode along the shoreline, heedless of the voices surrounding them.

“Come on kid, the water isn't that cold,” Jeralt laughed, and knelt beside his son.

Even as a child, Byleth bore the same neutral expression he oft carried. Though the sternness of the expression was hampered by the massive blue eyes and chubby cheeks children often found themselves with.

“No.”

Jeralt snorted, and grabbed Byleth beneath his arms and set the young kid on his shoulders, then waded into the water with rolled up trousers. Byleth did not struggle, but he did do all he could to keep himself from coming in contact with the water, no matter how hard Jeralt tried to ease him into it.

“Kid you have to learn to swim.”

“No.”

“Give it up Cap’, that kid ain't doing shit without wantin’ to.”

Jeralt held Byleth out at arm’s length with a frown, Byleth’s expression did not change. Eventually, the man cracked first and started chuckling, “Alright, fine. You win kiddo, for now. You are going to learn to swim though, you hear?”

“No.”

Jeralt rolled his eyes and brought Byleth back onto the shore. Once his bare feet touched the ground, Byleth trotted back into the water with no hesitation, to Jeralt’s utter confusion.

“Tol’ ya!”

Darkness engulfed them once more.

“Why are we seeing Byleth’s memories?” Dimitri inquired, warily eyeing another spec of magic twirling too close for comfort.

“Our experiences, in part, make us who we are, for better or worse. Some of these memories are important, some may have led to a shift in character… Some Byleth just liked thinking of.”

“When Byleth had come to the Academy… He suffered from poor memory.”

The Goddess hummed, “Yes, and no. One can only remember so many things, such is life. However, think of it as this, he holds memories for two, both mine and his own. Many things not deemed immediately important are often lost to his subconscious.”

“Do you remember things he forgot?”

“In a way,” She mused, “I am able to bring the memories to his consciousness, though I must search for them. It is rarely worth the effort.”

It made… Some sense, he guessed. Then the memories he had seen before the Goddess had retrieved him, had been important ones? It made no sense, Dimitri decided, and figured the topic to be a lost cause, so instead, he found himself more concerned for present time Byleth.

“You said Byleth is alive.”

“He is.”

“Is he…” Dimitri frowned, wracking his brain for the right way to word his question, “Is he still cognizant, within his body?”

The Goddess hummed, the ground beneath them changed to leaflitter. Towering trees reached far into the sky all around them, their branches blocking out much of the light. Only dappled patches of glittering gold shone through.

“To a point, yes. Despite the reputation that has preceded him, Byleth is a gentle soul. He does not take pleasure in taking life, nor other’s suffering. Without his crest stone, he was reduced to the basic shell of who he is. He did not seek to fight, and really only attacked in earnest when you were in danger.”

“Me?”

“He recognized you, either as his mate, someone safe, or perhaps as Dimitri yourself. When you were in danger, he acted to protect you.”

Hearing those words brought warmth to Dimitri’s chest. Knowing that even when brought to only his basic form of self, Byleth still cared for him, as Dimitri did him. It was comforting, and honestly, humbling.

“What’s this?” Jeralt had a spear over his knees when a young Byleth approached him, carrying a tankard in his small hands.

Byleth did not speak, of course, and simply offered his father the drink.

Jeralt accepted the gift and maneuvered himself so the spear laid beside him, and he made room for Byleth to sit beside him on the log. Byleth stared at him in silence for a moment, then scrambled onto the wood to sit beside the man. His short legs dangled freely over the mud and leaves coating the forest floor.

After a moment’s pause, Jeralt took a swig of whatever Byleth had brought him. His nose scrunched up in obvious disgust, though he quickly smoothed out the expression as he met Byleth’s expectant gaze.

“What’d ya bring me kiddo?”

“Tea.”

Jeralt stared at the drink with a newfound curiosity, then back to his son, “Yeah? Did Cooper brew it?”

Byleth shook his head, long strands of dark hair brushed his cheeks.

“Didja’ brew this yourself, then?”

Byleth nodded, “For you.”

Jeralt’s eyes were wide, and he stared down at the drink. Then, downed the entire thing in one go, despite how bitter it probably was.

“Fantastic kiddo, tell ya what, next time you decide to brew some more, invite me yeah? I could learn a thing or two from your skill,” Jeralt rumbled a laugh and tousled Byleth’s hair.

Byleth nodded firmly, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

The memory faded into darkness once more.

Dimitri recalled Byleth telling him of this, on the night he had proposed. It was how he had grown to enjoy his favorite tea, and found a way to bond with his father. Dimitri’s heart ached, seeing how Jeralt so blatantly adored his son, he could imagine the pain Byleth had felt when he was killed.

If he got out of this alive, he was going to make a point of visiting the man’s grave.

“Oh please, I will make sure you live at least long enough to return to yourself, Byleth would never allow me to rest if I do not,” the Goddess snorted, Dimitri had forgotten she could sense his thoughts.

Their walk fell into silence then. Only the sound of their feet hitting the bare ground beneath them echoed through the otherwise soundless void. Is this where The Goddess had been all this time? Alone in some never ending darkness? It was no wonder she never heard the prayers of her people.

The stillness was shattered when a bloodcurdling scream echoed around them. Mist gave way to dusty stones and a field of corpses. Soldiers lined around the scene playing out before them. A woman sobbed openly as she continued a heedless assault on a corpse. Stabbing the knife she wielded into the victim’s chest over and over again.

Dark blood bubbled up with each new wound inflicted, drops scattering and smearing the woman’s face as she continued to swing the knife around. Snot and tears cascaded down her face when she finally tossed the blade aside, short, heaving hiccups filled the air as she fought to breathe through her grief.

She stood from the body, pale green hair shone in the evening light.

The woman hobbled to where a sword had been cast aside, and fell to her knees beside it. Dimitri had not recognized her before, but as the woman lifted the Sword of the Creator to her cheek, it became all too clear.

“You're safe now, Mother,” Rhea’s voice was so small, fragile even, “He’s gone. This will never happen to our people again, I swear it.”

The memory, as all before it, faded away into the black.

“That wasn't Byleth’s memory,” Dimitri frowned, and glanced to the Goddess, who had paused her stride to stare off to the unyielding darkness.

“No, it was not.”

“That was… _Yours_.”

“Yes.”

Dimitri did not notice the girl at all in the memory, perhaps he was too focused on Rhea? Afterall, how could she remember such a thing, if she was not even there?

…The crest stone had still been in the sword, Dimitri realized. A new surge of bile simmered in the back of his throat, he had been right.

The relics _were_ alive.

“You are correct,” the Goddess answered his unspoken question, “The Relics are alive in the same way I am. We are loosely aware of the outside world, though lack any ability to influence it or feel what is around us.”

Dimitri swallowed, “So then, this entire time, Itzel…”

The Goddess resumed walking, Dimitri hesitated, then fell in line. He didn't need any further answers from her, she had told him enough.

Yet he wondered.

She herself had said they could recover from impossible things, would that mean… “Could the relics be returned to their true selves?”

“I am unsure,” She admitted, “ _Theoretically_ , it should be possible, however, it would risk becoming another situation of Byleth and I. Where the vassal develops a mind of their own, becomes their own person, and is not truly the revival of the individual themselves.”

“I see.”

“Byleth might have the power to revert their bodies back, however that would require immense energy. Energy he may be unable to use, depending on the outcome of this.”

“Could _you_?”

“Had I my own body, and my full strength? Yes, with quite a bit of effort, but yes.”

“Byleth has full access to your power now though, right?”

“You assume much,” the Goddess grunted, “Things are not so simple. As much as I wish it to be. When his heart is returned, not even I will know the outcome. It may be the true merging of Byleth and I, where we become one and the same. Perhaps Byleth’s magic will even out, perhaps we will return to our original problem. The ritual _meant_ to be performed has been so soured and warped, I cannot even begin to fathom what may come of it.”

Dimitri found further rage at Rhea bubbling just beneath his skin. If all of _this_ had been for naught, if Byleth simply returned to suffering as he had… Dimitri had no words for the things he longed to do. He was furious, yet his anger had no goal, no outlet to focus it upon. The subject of his wrath was already dead.

“Even if Byleth gained my strength,” the Goddess continued, not acknowledging his thoughts, “There is no guarantee he could perform the rite needed to bring them back. He has no knowledge of it, and doing so with such limited resources would require absolute mastery of the magic involved. That may have been, in part, why my daughter was so adamant on reviving me, cruel and unjust as her methods were.”

Dimitri bit back a retort, the searing hatred he felt for that woman would never fade, he knew. Much as his anger for Edelgard still stewed in the back of his mind, he could not let go so easily, no matter the reasoning behind their actions. Just or not.

Dimitri grunted when he ran into the Goddess’ back. He stumbled with murmured apologies when he held her hand up and cut him off.

“You ought to pay more attention to your surroundings, Little King,” She turned and smiled at him, no sign of actual irritation as far as Dimitri could tell, “Regardless, here is where we part.”

He took a moment to look around, survey the area and found it no different than any other part of this damned void. The darkness was beginning to grow suffocating, he was not sure how long had passed since that last memory they strode through.

“Where is here?”

“This is the edge between my, and Byleth’s own being. It is faint, but it is here,” She turned her head away from him, staring off at something Dimitri could never hope to see, “If I cross, I will take Byleth’s body from him. Whether I wanted to or not. It is a fine line that has only grown more fragile over the years.”

It was odd for Dimitri to realize that with her knowing the line between them, at any point, she could have taken Byleth from them. She could have used Byleth as the vassal he was intended to be. Yet, she never did.

“Seiros’ plans were all sound, to bring me back to life. Yet the thing with life is, one cannot bring back the unwilling. Each thing she did to Byleth was another chip against this wall, until it became what it is. Merely a twine that at the slighted touch, would snap,” the Goddess’ face fell into something sad, “I know my children suffer, all of them. However, I cannot return. Rather, I do not want to, at the cost of this man’s life. I gave my life to heal the earth’s hurt after the war with the Agarthans, it was a good death. Had my body not been desecrated as it had, perhaps I could have come back one day, but history was not so kind. I lived a good life, and I am content with what I have done.

“Whether or not Byleth takes my position as the God of these lands is up to him now, I think. No matter what he chooses, it will be the end of my presence here. I will no longer live within the stone, and will be free to rest as I should have, over a thousand years ago.”

Dimitri’s hand tightened around the stone in his palm.

“When you return, take Seiros’ heart from her body, and destroy it.”

He nodded, “Very well.”

The Goddess stepped back from the edge Dimitri could not see, and clasped his wrist, “Go to him. Follow the heart and it will guide you to his self. You’ll find him, but do not stray.”

“Understood.”

“Take care of him, alright? Someone’ll have to keep him from being a dumbass.”

Dimitri choked out a surprised laugh, and the Goddess grinned at him.

“Oh please, I am no Goddess any longer. Call me Sothis.”

“Alright, Sothis. I will endeavor to keep him out of trouble.”

The Goddess— No, _Sothis_ , nodded and patted his arm once more before walking back in the direction they came, “I know you will. Do not forget to take care of yourself though, alright?”

Dimitri blinked at her.

She waved him off, “Do not give me that look, Byleth frets over you constantly. Learn to take a break, alright?”

Dimitri smiled, his chest warm and light, “Alright.”

Sothis nodded at him, and changed. As though years passed before his eyes, the girl before him grew and matured. Her curly hair lengthened into waves of green, wrapping and curling around her feet as the ocean did the seashore. Her eyes matured, yet the simple mischievousness remained. Dimitri found himself suddenly comparing her to the woman he had seen in Byleth’s book, her expression neutral, but kind. Like Byleth.

She winked at him, and disappeared into the void.

He stared after the space she left behind, then drew in a steadying breath. Right. Dimitri stole a glance at the pulsing stone in his hand, and brought it to his chest. He steeled himself, and crossed the border.

Dimitri had expected more of the unyielding darkness to meet him, he had been far from the truth. The moment his foot touched the ground on the other side, color exploded into his vision. Blotted splotches of color echoed around him, too blurry to make out proper shapes.

As his eye adjusted to the sudden burst of light, Dimitri found himself in a feild. Golden wafts of wheat brushed against his knees, and a gentle breeze brushed against the previously stagnant strands of hair on his forehead.

Sothis’ words hung in his head, a warning, he realised.

_Do not stray._

So, Dimitri walked. The field seemed endless, no matter how far Dimitri strained his eye, there was no end in sight. No sign of Byleth.

He pressed forward, the steady thrum of magic the crest stone gave off served as a grounding point for himself. Petals danced through the air as he continued.

All the time in the world, yet no time at all seemed to pass. As though held in a never ending stasis. No clouds blotted out the ocean of blue above him, the breeze constant, yet comforting. Was he getting any closer?

Dimitri glanced down at the heart he held, and found it emanating a brighter light. If he squinted, it seemed as though the glow was being pulsed somewhere, creating the faintest of points, like a compass to follow. He adjusted his path to follow the light, and the breeze grew into proper wind, whipping around his face and cloak violently, but he pressed forward.

The field of gold wheat gave way to flowers, endless colors blotted the land. Dimitri did not falter, and continued forward. Scattered colors of flowers became a sea of blue forget-me-nots. Dimitri allowed himself to lift his gaze from the stone then, a single tree set in the middle of the blue, it’s own flowers a brilliant glowing white.

Dimitri’s walk broke into a jog, then into a run when he saw what laid at the base of the black tree.

A child with dark hair and a black tunic was curled among the roots of the tree. Clutched to his chest as one might a favored toy, was a bouquet of flowers. Each different from the others, unique in petal shape and color. The brilliant orange of Duscur, the gentle blue of Fhirdiad, a shimmering yellow of Almyra… These were the flowers of his students, Dimitri realized. Each of their favorite flowers were held with such ferocity to his chest, Dimitri was marved they had not wilted or broken in his grasp.

The stone in his hand burned when he reached out to Byleth, resting a hand upon his shoulder. He did not awaken. Dimitri gently rolled him onto his back and hesitated. He was unsure what to do, Sothis had given him no instruction on what to do. So, he did what he could think of, and rested the stone on his chest, just over his heart.

A blinding light blossomed from the crest stone, Dimitri shielded his eye, but only enough to keep himself from being blinded. He watched in awe as Byleth’s hair bled green, taking on the shade he had grown so familiar with.

The child’s eyes opened, revealing draconic eyes of green and swirling splashes of gold. Like the wheat field.

With another burst of light, the crest stone sunk into his chest, and Byleth himself began to give off an ethereal glow. From a moment to the next, a mere blink, the Byleth before him was a man, no longer a child, but the person he had grown to love with all that he was.

The flowers Byleth had clutched to him as a child grew further still, and it was then Dimitri realized they had been sprouting from his abdomen and between his ribs. Yet Byleth seemed at peace with them growing from his body, and once Dimitri met his eyes, smiled at him.

_“Thank you.”_

He was falling, again.

When Dimitri landed all was dark, his back hurt and lungs burned for air, yet, he was alive. He was unharmed, as far as he could tell. There were cries in the distance, screaming, sobbing, so many emotions in their words and voices. Dimitri wondered what had brought the voices such agony.

His eye was closed, Dimitri realised.

When he opened it, the light was agony. He groaned and barely managed to lift a hand to cover his face, the voices were louder now, he couldn't make out their words. They all blended together in a deafening cacophony of just _sound_.

He waited a moment, then opened his eye again, this time, the light had been obscured by a warm and welcoming white.

Dimitri reached up to brush against feathers. They were soft and warm.

Feathers? Why would there be feathers?

As he came too, Dimitri slowly grew aware of his body. He was cushioned against something warm, there was a gentle give to the surface, though was not soft as the feathers were. He turned his head, the light was obscured by a massive glittering spire, beyond it he could make out the sandy brown of clay and stone.

The spire twitched.

Dimitri blinked and looked up when warmth rolled over his body in a wave. Feathers, a beak, and green filled his vision. His vision blurred, then cleared again when the shape pulled back a bit, and Dimitri took in the face above him.

He was laying in a hand, brought close to a scarred chest whose wound had freshly closed.

The face smiled, warm and safe and home.

Byleth.

_“Dima, hello.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hot diddly damn, here we are folks. Just one more chapter left.
> 
> Seriously the amount of support and love this fic as gotten has just?? Absolutely blown me away. I am so happy to hear how much people have been enjoying this story so far. Thank you all so much, and know that every single comment and kudos I got means the world to me.
> 
> Here is my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/vulturepops) if you wanna come follow me there!


	26. Peace, at Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Byleth, your heart, it’s… It's _beating_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO CHECK OUT THE AWESOME ART DONE OF THE FIC!!
> 
> [Link](https://twitter.com/valworkz/status/1297465557307002882) by @vlworkz  
> and  
> [Link](https://twitter.com/TheSmithKnight1/status/1296137543797428226) by @TheSmithKnight1
> 
> I'm hollerin, thank you both so so much

Even with the dozens of hands and voices clawing for his attention, Dimitri found it hard to break from his haze. He was safe, Byleth was safe. That should be enough, right? Yet a fog remained in his mind, it’s talons sunk deep into his very body and refused to let go. Something was pressed against his lips, and a lukewarm liquid sloshed down the back of his throat.

Water?

He was guided to sit somewhere, a hand on his back keeping him upright, as the voices lost their interest in him, and began speaking elsewhere. Away from him, thankfully.

Dimitri took another swig of water.

He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there when he finally began to come to his senses. Dedue was sitting next to him, they were in Zanado, his friends and the odd stray wyvern or two were littered about the area. Lysithea, Marianne, and Mercedes, were clustered around Flayn, her torso and left arm covered in bandages. What happened? She seemed in bright spirits and bumped her shoulder against Mercedes’ with a wide smile.

Seteth and Macuil were with Byleth, still as a dragon, stretched out on his side, seemingly asleep. Dimitri made a move to stand but Dedue was quick to pull him back down.

“He’s fine. They’re checking for any internal injuries,” Dedue assured.

Dimitri hesitated, but eventually relented and allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief. It worked. Byleth was back with them.

He rubbed his forehead, it was weird. He could remember everything that happened, yet there was this haze over his memories that almost led Dimitri to believe it was a dream. _Was_ it a dream? No, he assured himself, it couldn't have been. He saw things he could have never otherwise. _Knew_ things he shouldn't.

Claude dropped down on the fragment of earth beside him, “Good to see you're back with us too.”

Dimitri tilted his head.

“We thought you _both_ were dead for a while there,” Claude (Khalid?) frowned, his hand rubbed Nedruil’s jaw, “Teach looked like he was going to kill you, then you both just kinda… Fell? It was weird. We didn't see any signs of life from Byleth, and we had no idea where you went.”

Dimitri could piece together what had happened. Byleth had caught Dimitri when they fell, probably when he went into the crest stone or whatever the fuck happened. He must have shielded him from sight? He woke up by his chest, perhaps he had tried to cushion the fall, and given how massive Byleth was, he would have been hidden from sight when they landed.

“How long passed?”

“What?”

“How long were we out?”

Khalid (Claude?) grunted, “Not long, maybe like ten minutes? Felt like years though, we were worried about you two.”

Had it really been so short? He felt as though hours had passed. Perhaps time was skewed within the stone.

Dimitri had not realized he finished the flask in his hand until Khalid pried it from his gauntlets, “I’ll grab ya another one.”

“No, that… No. Thank you Clau- Khalid, I am quite alright.”

Khalid froze, “Excuse me?”

“It is Khalid right? I…” Dimitri rubbed his forehead with his newly freed hand, “I must apologize. It had to have gotten grating having people refer to you as the incorrect name for so long..”

Khalid appeared to be some odd mix of dumbfounded and irritated, though Dimitri could not pinpoint why.

Then, he remembered.

_‘A secret for a secret, Teach.’_

“Oh, I… Whoops.”

Khalid let out a nervous wheeze, “How did you find that out?”

“Byleth—”

“He _told_ you?”

“What? No! No of course not, he would never betray— No. He didn't. I saw his memory of when you returned Jeralt’s journal, after you stole it. Which, by the way, was a horrible thing to do. How _could_ you?”

Khalid blinked, then slumped and let out a dry laugh, “Yeah, alright. _Ok_. You saw his memories? How?”

“I was in the crest stone.”

“... Right.”

“I do not know how, if that is of any consolation. Sothis did not either, apparently.”

Dedue coughed, “You… Met her?”

“Yes.”

Khalid pulled a hand down his face, “I am surprised just at how _unsurprised_ I am, guess it doesn't matter if people know my name now anyway. No need to keep it a secret anymore.”

There were a lot of questions Dimitri had, in regards to Clau- _Khalid’s_ lineage. His claim to the Reigan house had been legitimate as far as he was aware, and yet, he now ruled over Almyra. While there was some vague knowledge of his mother moving to Almyra with his father, Dimitri wondered how he had grown up.

Perhaps Dimitri had been projecting his own feelings of isolation upon him, in their academy days. Yet it often seemed as if he were an outsider among his own people back then.

A ploom of sand and dust kicked into the wind. Khalid coughed and covered his mouth, Nendruil flew away with a sharp squawk, and Dedue ducked his head into the crook of his arm. Another thump on the sandy earth spurred up more still.

“Hold still,” Seteth snapped, “We are not finished.”

Byleth’s tail twitched, the feathered tip ended far past their group, though did not whack against the ground. Dimitri imagined if they had been closer, they would have suffered far more sand in their faces.

Byleth’s head lifted from the canyon’s ground and peered over their group. His eyes trailed over the lot of them, all frozen in place at the sudden movement. Dimitri knew him to be tallying them, doing a headcount to be sure everyone was safe. When apparently satisfied, he grunted, and let his head drop down.

Kicking up another dust cloud, though this time, into Macuil and Seteth’s faces.

He did a poor job at stifling his own laughter at their sputtering.

Dimitri felt light, airy, even. The worst was over, it had to be.

Byleth’s heart had been returned, he was awake and himself. Rhea was defeated, they could live in peace now.

Rhea.

Right.

Dimitri covered his mouth, he needed to finish her off, properly. Carve open what remained of her chest and destroy the stone within. Just as she had tried to do to Byleth. It was what his whole body itched for, _craved_ , even.

Yet even beneath the bubbling desire for her suffering, he mostly just felt tired. Tired of fighting, tired of stupid battles led by foolish men and women. He was tired of seeing those he loved in pain, of trying to balance being a King with caring for his quietly suffering husband. More than anything now, more than revenge or justice, Dimitri just wanted it to stop.

Dimitri moved his hands to his knees, a quick scan of the area did not help him locate the lance he had wielded before. He knew he dropped it in the scuffle, but he supposed with how large Zanado was, it could be anywhere in the canyon now. Seteth had been sure he would need the lance crafted from Byleth’s body to slay him, Dimitri imagined he’d need it to slay Rhea.

He wondered if only Byleth’s relic ( _was_ it a relic?) would be the only weapon strong enough to pierce her heart, or if any would do. Dimitri dismissed the thought, he would never again use Itzel as a senseless weapon, ever.

“What troubles you?” Dedue inquired, Dimitri’s face must have given away his frustration.

“Do you know where the lance is? The one made from Byleth?”

Dedue lifted his lip briefly, then seemed to realize what expression he was making, and carefully fell into a neutral gaze, “No, I am afraid I do not. Perhaps Seteth would.”

Dimitri nodded, solemn. Once the deed was done, he was going to destroy it, or lock it away forever. Or _something_. So no other would be able to use the weapon again.

He pushed to his feet, Khalid and Dedue followed.

“What do you need it for?” Khalid snorted, “What, did the Goddess herself give you some special last divine mission?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Dimitri grunted.

When he approached the two Nabateans standing before Byleth’s chest, Seteth was the one who turned to regard him.

“Indech has it,” He grunted, then turned his attention back to his brother, where gold runes trailed up his arms beneath the loose sleeves of the tunic he bore. Similarly glowing runes spiderwebbed from the scar on Byleth’s chest.

Dimitri hesitated, fixated on the swell of Byleth’s rib cage with each breath he took. He was alive, and given the lack of any urgency in Seteth’s face, he was unharmed. The relief he felt was nearly overwhelming.

He licked his lips, then spoke again, “You… Know what I plan to do, right?”

Seteth flinched, and shied away from Dimitri’s gaze. He could see the taught line drawn by his shoulders, only wavering slightly when he spoke, “Yes.”

“... Do… Do you…” Dimitri trailed off. Did he _what_? Want to watch Dimitri gut his sister? Watch as he would crush any hope of recovery for her?

“No,” his voice was quiet, “It must be done, I am aware. However I… Do not wish to witness the process.”

“I will make it swift,” Dimitri promised and turned on his heel to seek out Indech among their people. He politely ignored the hitched breath from Seteth as clay and sand crunched beneath his boots.

After everything, Dimitri supposed, she still was his little sister.

Two sets of footsteps followed behind him, neither Khalid or Dedue spoke. He imagined they knew what he was doing, or perhaps had suspicions. Their friends were silent as they walked past, some stood to follow him, some remained where they were.

Indech himself was perched upon ruble of what once had been a pillar, before being yanked into the sky by Byleth’s magic. Strewn across his lap, laid the lance. The blade shimmered green in the late afternoon sun, the same color of Byleth’s horns, Dimitri realized.

The lance rattled against the armor on Indech’s thigh, where his heel incessantly tapped against the stone beneath his boots. With his curly hair drawn taught behind him in a bun, Dimitri could see the flick of his pointed ears when Dimitri stopped before him.

Indech continued to stare at the lance, thick gloved fingers traced over the delicate curve of the blade.

“I hate what she’s done,” Indech spoke, thick brows furrowed, “But I don't hate _her_.”

Dimitri did not respond, there was nothing to say.

“I know Mother probably told you to finish her off, if what little I heard was anything to go by,” he frowned, “She’s done unforgivable things, to Byleth, to those who once had been our friends, our _family_.”

Indech rose his head to stare at the sky, clear and blue, “I thought I hated her for a while too, but now, I… Don't think I do.”

The man stood, and held the lance out to Dimitri, who took it carefully into his hands.

Dimitri adjusted his grip on the weapon, then met Indech’s eyes, “You told me once death was sacred to your people, right?”

“In a way, yes.”

“Then… I pray she can find peace in death.”

Indech’s eyes widened a bit, then softened, “Thank you.”

“Where is she?”

Indech nodded behind him, “Other side of the canyon. She… You won't miss her.”

Dimitri spoke no further words, simply nodded, and strode past him.

“She was torn in half, how can she still be alive?” someone behind him demanded, Dimitri’s brain was addled with swirling emotions, so it was hard to discern who spoke. Probably Lindhart.

“Nabateans are… Able to recover from impossible things.”

“I… Don't think I like what you are implying, friend,” Khalid spoke, low, and with an edge of perhaps fear or anger.

“As long… As long as the stone remains whole, she can regenerate.”

Khalid fell oddly silent. Dimitri did not doubt his own mind was racing with questions and horrid realizations. Knowing you used a sentient being as nothing more than a tool would upset anyone, he was sure.

“The more I learn of relics the more disgusted I am by them,” Sylvain this time, he believed, spat.

Dimitri agreed.

Sure enough, as they approached the far end of the canyon, Dimitri could make out the bumps and curves of a dragon’s body, severed in two.

The split was not even, tendons and muscles still stretched between the two halves, though her spine seemed to have been twisted upon itself, leaving her lower half to be bent away at a grotesque angle. Dimitri swallowed down the bile in his throat, the stench was horrid. He wanted to get this over with.

He held up a hand to stop his companions from getting any closer. This was his task, his burden to bear. They needn't take any part.

He walked around her head, startled to find her eyes were open, albeit unfocused and glossy. Undoubtedly unconscious, he figured, and approached her chest alongside her long neck where more blood matted the scales, spawned from a bite just below her jaw. From his peripheral, he noticed the glowing white within her eye moved, following his movement as he came to a stop before her ribs.

She was awake.

Each gasping breath she took rattled the bones within her. Gasping for air her lungs could not hold. It was a… Disturbing sight. Watching her body heave, pooled by a tacky lake of green. He would not falter. Pathetic (or upsetting? Dimitri couldn't figure out how he felt) as it was, he did not seek to draw out her suffering.

The glossy eyes followed the movement of his lance as he lifted it and adjusted his stance to strike, though hesitated.

“You are still conscious, are you not?”

He did not really expect her to answer, so when she did, he nearly dropped his weapon.

_“I am.”_

There were so many things he wanted to snarl at her, berate her for. So many things he longed to say, but couldn't find the words for. Though, he found the right ones for a single burning question that lingered in the back of his mind since he had learned all she had done.

“Answer me this, then, before I kill you,” Dimitri readied his lance, “Did you ever see Byleth as more than just a tool to bring your mother back? Did you ever even just _once_ , see him as his own person? See his _mother_ , as an individual?”

Rhea’s eye slid closed, _“Would you believe me, if I said yes?”_

Dimitri rose his spear above his head, “... No.”

And plunged the weapon deep into her chest.

The tip of the blade scratched against something hard within her chest, she hacked out a silent scream. Dimitri adjusted his stance and shoved the lance deeper, but the resistance was too great, and his feet slipped on the fresh river of blood leaking from her wound. He righted himself and pulled the lance down instead, along the center seam of her body.

Flaying her open like a fish, Dimitri yanked the lance free of her body. Her breaths were shallow as her body convulsed in what he could imagine to be agony, and Dimitri felt pity.

Though, as he stepped close to her heaving chest, he reminded himself, that she had done this to Byleth. She had done this exact same heinous act to a man who had been willing to do everything to help her. Who had been willing to lose his humanity so her people could live.

And she betrayed that trust with slaughter.

He shoved his hand into the gap between her ribs, reaching for that faint pulsing light between the bones. His fingers grasped something solid, something hot enough to burn his hand, even through the gauntlets he bore. Dimitri braced himself with a foot on her chest, and pulled.

Rhea’s body seized and she _howled_.

The sound echoed through the canyon like a ghost when she fell limp, her mouth open, pouring green into a halo around her head. Dimitri finished pulling the stone from her body and dropped it once free. He was not finished though.

Despite the pain holding the lance wrought unto his burnt hand, he bore the blade down onto the newly liberated orb. Dimitri called upon the power of his crest, and with a sickening crack, broke the stone clean in two.

The red light that once swirled around the crest stone vanished, leaving nothing but a grey and broken rock in its place.

It was over.

Where was the satisfaction?

Where was that sense of justice? _Of righteous revenge?_

Dimitri felt numb.

The lance slipped from his grip and clattered against the stone. Dimitri stared at it, bile burned the back of his throat. He moved without thought when in a swift and fury-filled action, he slammed the heel of his boot into the center of the lance’s blade. Yet his foot slipped uselessly off the curve.

He grit his teeth and tried again, and again, forcing all the strength he held into destroying that damned thing. Even as the earth cracked from his might, the blade remained unscathed.

Hands grabbed at him and pulled him from the lance and Rhea’s body. Dimitri’s eyes burned, that cursed lance needed to be destroyed, no other should ever use it again. The hands were incessant, and Dimitri allowed himself to eventually be pulled away.

He was engulfed in warmth, though his head pressed against something solid and cold. Metal? Someone’s breastplate. He could pick out faint the scent of ginger and cumin beneath the tang of armor against his cheek.

Dimitri counted.

Finally, the world around him seemed to return.

Dedue held him to his chest, muttering something in his native language Dimitri could not discern. He sounded angry, whatever he was saying. His posture, or maybe body language in general must have changed, as he found himself pulled to be held out at arm’s length. Dedue ducked his head a bit to meet Dimitri’s eye, brows pinched in concern.

“I’m… Alright,” Dimitri assured.

Dedue frowned, though released him from his grip.

Past Dedue’s shoulders, Sylvain held the cursed lance, stained dark with Rhea’s blood.

“Sylvain,” he tried, “Sylvain don't, it needs to be—”

The man snorted, “Oh I have _no_ intention of keeping this, but we can't leave it here.”

Dimitri hesitated, but nodded. He was right. If the weapon was left there, someone could easily come across it and use it for their own gain. It needed to be destroyed, but until they learned how, it needed to be kept safe.

As much as the sight of the damn thing made his skin crawl.

Byleth, he needs to get back to Byleth. Surely they would have finished checking him over by now, right?

Dimitri drew a shaky breath, “Come, let us return to Byleth. There is… Nothing here for us.”

Dedue’s hand on his shoulder was steadying, as he tore his gaze away from Rhea’s corpse, and walked along her side to return to where Byleth still laid.

His Beloved’s head lifted when they got closer, Dimitri found he couldn't meet his eyes. Byleth did not _seem_ upset with him yet… Dimitri found shame prickling along his spine even so. None of the others spoke.

He did not need to wonder if they had heard Rhea’s dying scream, he knew they did.

Dimitri did not regret killing her. Nor did he really regret that she suffered, though he found no pleasure in it. If anything, he wished the pain of losing a sister could have been spared upon those largely innocent in this.

Byleth rumbled a soft greeting, one that vibrated through the air and made hair stand on end. Dimitri took his place quietly beside Seteth, as Macuil finally withdrew his hands from Byleth’s chest. The runes that had fanned out from his heart vanished, peeling off scales and feathers alike in soft clouds of white.

“You should be stable enough to revert back, if you have the energy.”

When Byleth spoke, the earth hummed, _“I shall try.”_

The three of them stepped back, as did the rest of the group. Giving Byleth an ample breath of space to move. Byleth slowly, shakily, pushed to his feet. Dimitri did not think he had a word to describe the size of Byleth when he rose to his newly found height.

It brought forth a flash of memories, back when they had visited Indech’s temple so many months ago.

There had been an engraving on a wall, of Indech carrying an entire city upon his back. Seteth then, had said it was an exaggeration. That he had merely carried supplies. Byleth, Dimitri imagined, could easily ferry the entirety of Garreg Mach upon his shoulders.

Byleth’s wings stretched, the feathers brushed along either side of the cliffs surrounding them, briefly creating a perfect bridge between them.

Sothis was rarely depicted in painted arts, the few times she was, it was with white feathers sprouting from her back. He had once thought the feathers to be symbolic, to be nothing more than frivolous decoration of an apathetic creator.

Dimitri knew better now.

There was a tense beat of nothing, the air became still, tense. Then exploded into violent winds, burning his face and whipping his hair and cape around him. He shielded his eyes from the sand he expected to face, though none came. Despite the gusts assaulting them all, not a single grain of sand was disturbed.

Byleth’s feathers flew into the sky as petals of lily, burning into ash when they blew too far from the glowing core. Scales and more feathers peeled away from a luminous orb that floated just above their heads. The light lowered to the ground when the last of his dragonic form burnt away.

Just as the edge brushed the clay and stone beneath, a wave of warmth and light flooded over Zanado. When the heat eased, and Dimitri no longer saw stars in his vision, he lowered his arm to the sight of Byleth laying on the ground.

Long green hair fanned around his nude form, falling in his face when he shakily pushed himself up on an elbow.

Dimitri was on his knees before him between breaths. He was quick to unclasp his cloak from his shoulders and wrap it around Byleth, some last ditch-effort to preserve his modesty, he supposed. After securing it as best he could around his frame, Dimitri placed a hand between his shoulder blades to support him while he struggled to sit up.

“How do you feel?” Dimitri pressed as Seteth knelt beside him, “Any pain?”

“Ugh…” Byleth groaned, and scratched at the scar on his chest, “No… I… I feel heavy, and like… My whole body is just _throbbing_.”

Dimitri’s brows furrowed when his Beloved slumped against him, letting his head loll onto his shoulder. Seteth held Byleth’s hand, and oddly, rested his thumb over the inside of his wrist.

Checking for a pulse.

When relief flooded Seteth’s face, Dimitri wasted no time pulling Byleth up so he could press his ear against his chest.

“D-Dima?”

“Shh.”

Silence, then…

_Ba-bump_

_…_

_Ba-bump_

The laugh that espaped him probably sounded ridiculous, if Byleth’s bewildered expression was anything to go by after he lowered him back to a more natural position.

“Byleth, your heart, it’s… It's _beating_.”

Byleth stared at him, dumbfounded, then at Seteth, who nodded once with a gentle smile, “It will take some getting used to, I suspect. A heart can be a heavy burden to bear.”

Byleth rubbed his scar, not speaking immediately. His fingers danced briefly over the beginning of a fresh one. A raw line of red from his heart down his ribs, stopping just shy of his navel. Dimitri imagined it was the vivisection line Rhea tore when she betrayed him and stole his heart.

He tugged the cloak closed and brushed his forehead against Byleth’s.

There was a thump on his chest, followed by a soft grunt from Byleth. Dimitri pulled back enough to see Byleth’s flat palm over his breastplate, and from the folds of the cloak, he could tell Byleth’s other one rested over his heart. Dimitri pulled the hand from his armor to his neck, just beneath his jaw, and guided his fingers to press against the pulse there.

After a moment, Byleth smiled, “They match.”

“Unsurprising,” Seteth pushed to his feet with a grunt, “Our heartbeats tend to match those we love.”

The implication of Seteth’s explanation left Dimitri warm. He briefly wondered how such a strange phenomenon was possible, but idle questions were brushed away when they were swarmed by their friends.

“You're done dying now, right?”

“How do you feel?”

“Goin’ to be alright there, friend?”

Seteth standing must have been the signal they all waited for before they launched their attack. Dimitri was a bit surprised that Byleth did not shy away from them, instead just frowned and barked a sharp, “One at a time.”

Thoroughly scolded, the lions settled down and gave them both a bit more space. When they heeled, Byleth tutted, and finally answered their questions.

“Yes, I am stable and no longer dying. I think.”

Seteth’s voice carried enough to be heard over their heads, “He will make a full recovery.”

“ I feel fine, mostly just tired,” Byleth rested a hand over his stomach, then added, “And hungry.”

“There are still some rations at our camp,” Ashe piped up, “Lets head back, and you can eat to your heart’s content!”

“...Camp?” Byleth tilted his head, and glanced to the sky, “I suppose it is a bit late to return to the monastery.”

An awkward silence settled over the group. Well, the monastery _itself_ was still in more or less good condition, from Dimitri’s vague recollection. Most of the damage had been limited to the Cathedral where the ritual had taken place, and the bridge. Perhaps he simply wanted to rest before they began repairs.

“... Uh, Professor?” Sylvain scratched the back of his neck, stubbornly refusing to meet Byleth’s narrowed gaze, “How much do you, uh, remember?”

Byleth tilted his head, “Remember? What do you mean?”

“From, _y’know_ , what happened.”

“Ah,” Byleth brows furrowed, “The last thing I can recall is Rhea removing my crest stone, there was nothing for a while, then I met my… mother, Dimitri saved me, and I awoke here.”

Dimitri would definitely have to ask about his mother.

“... Right, ok,” Sylvain pushed to his feet and brushed sand from his armor, “Who’s gonna tell him?”

“Not it.”

“Nope.”

“Tell me what?”

“No.”

“Do it yourself.”

Byleth drew Dimitri’s attention by knocking on his armor, “What happened?”

Dimitri sighed, “The monastery is in poor repair right now, after Rhea… Did _that…_ You went, uh, mad. You didn't hurt anyone—”

“Expect Rhea.”

“—That didn't _deserve_ it,” Dimitri snapped, Khalid held his hands up in a vague sense of surrender, “You came here and we followed. We were able to return your crest stone, and well, here you are.”

“...I destroyed Garreg Mach?”

“Mostly just the cathedral, much of the Monastery is still in functioning enough condition. It _wasn't_ your fault, Byleth.”

“It was not,” Seteth confirmed, ushering away the group from Dimitri and Byleth, “Frankly, it is a miracle more damage was not caused. Without the crest stone, your power ran amok. Though you _somehow_ had the sense to come here instead of remain at Garreg Mach.”

“I do not remember that.”

Seteth grunted, “Unsurprising.”

“Well!” Flayn shouldered her way between Mercedes and Felix, “Enough about that. Come, I too am quite hungry!”

Byleth stared at her, or more specifically Dimitri imagined, the bandages covering her chest and shoulder. He tapped on Dimitri’s chest, quiet, but Dimitri could feel the fear roll off of him in waves.

“You were not the one who attacked her,” Dimitri assured, and adjusted his grip on Byleth’s shoulders, “Can you stand?”

Byleth nodded, and rose with Dimitri as they pushed to their feet. He wobbled a bit, though once footing was gained, he remained steady.

“Fret not, Byleth,” Flayn rested a hand over the bandages and grinned, “You’d never hurt any of us. Besides, the wound is largely healed now.”

Dimitri prepared himself to catch Byleth as he released the support of his arms. Though, such caution was unneeded, as Byleth remained upright and surprisingly steady, all things considered. He did not seem happy, exactly, but Dimitri doubted all that transpired over just the last few hours would be much cause for celebration, in the end.

Byleth was safe now though, and that was all Dimitri could ask for.

A few whistles rang in the air, where those with wyverns called their mount to them. Though Khalid was not among them, surprised, Dimitri asked, “Will you not ride Nendruil back?”

“Nah, his foot is pretty fucked up, landing as it is now probably hurts enough, he doesn't need my added weight.”

“Ah,” Dimitri cleared his throat, “I… Apologize. I did not realize how hard I had hit him.”

Byleth, to his credit, seemed to just be accepting everything he missed with a grain of salt.

“Don’t, he wasn't in his right mind,” Khalid shrugged, “It’ll be fine after some healing and rest, but I’m not going to push him.”

Byleth whistled, the sound echoed through the canyon as they others had, yet, there was no accompanying flap of wings. Byleth frowned, and tried again, nothing.

Alarm graced his features, “Dagur, where is Dagur?”

Oh no.

Byleth whistled again, though this time, his ears rose and he turned his head. One more whistle, a pause, then he bolted. Dimitri could not sense what he did, but he seemed to have picked up on something, Dimitri shared a look with Khalid and ran after him.

Byleth headed straight to where a small group of wyverns had fallen, killed by Rhea when she had attacked him. He shouldered one on the top of the pile aside, it’s body rolled with a thud.

Oh _no_.

Dimitri was at his side, helping him move corpses, as they slowly unveiled one that still moved. Finally, the bulk of the weight gone, a wyvern dislodged the last one from their back, a sheared saddle falling along with it. Dagur’s head rose, and she chirped.

The side of her face was matted with green, dark and dried over her scales, coating her left eye, where a gash tore across her face. Byelth stepped over the final corpse to get to her, hand held out in what Dimitri figured to be an offering of peace or comfort.

He ran his hands down her neck, where the wound had trailed down her jaw, grazed her neck, then ended down her chest. A nasty wound to be sure, but Dimitri didn't think it would be fatal.

“She was one of the wyverns that came to my rescue,” Flayn murmured, “When Rhea attacked us. She saved me, I think.”

Dimitri was a bit surprised to see she and Seteth had followed them, especially given Seteth’s relationship with the rather prickly wyvern. As if to prove a point, Dagur rumbled a warning hiss when Seteth stepped too close. The man scoffed, and ignored her when he squatted down beside Byleth to survey the wound.

“It's serious, and will require professional care, to be sure,” he frowned, “But she will recover.”

Byleth’s shoulders slumped. Dimitri rubbed his back, soft circles he hoped would be comforting. He didn't know much about wyverns, their care, or what they needed to heal, but he hoped Seteth was right. That she’d make a full recovery.

Dimitri stepped back when Byleth stood and coaxed the reptile to stand with him. She was shaky on her feet, and wobbled when she took her first steps from the glorified graveyard of wyverns, but she could move.

With his hands pressed against her side and shoulder, Byleth helped guide her out where there was more space for her to move. Once moving, she seemed to gain her barings, though Dimitri doubted she’d be able to fly, at least for now. Flayn’s hands glowed a faint green where they rested over the wound on her chest. It stopped bleeding fresh rivulets of green, though remained rather raw, even when Flayn pulled them away.

“I cannot do much else,” she admitted.

“It helped, thank you, Flayn,” Byleth spoke, brows furrowed despite his assuring tone.

After all that he went through, Dimitri would be unsurprised if he were rather strapped for magic himself now. They strode past the group, and without further words spoken, the other lions and their mounts stood to follow. A quiet, solemn march back to their temporary camp in the forest surrounding Garreg Mach.

* * *

Fire crackled from the pit Ashe and Leonie had built, rations were dulled out, and few words spoken.

Now that the worst was over, there was an exhaustion that clung heavily to the air around them. Thick and coiling was the doubt and dread of returning to the monastery, knowing how much of it was in ruin now.

Dimitri brushed open a tent flap, Byleth had accepted his ration and retreated to the solace of the tents without further comment. The man sat on the ground, picking at some jerky and an apple someone had offered him. For someone who had claimed to be hungry, he sure was not eating much.

“Hey,” he greeted, so many words hung on the tip of his tongue, without any way of escape. What could he say? What was there he could do?

Byleth glanced over his shoulder at him, then returned to picking at the food in his lap.

“Dagur ate the food she was given,” Dimitri offered, unbuckling the straps on his gauntlets, “Seteth was able to heal her a bit more too.”

Byleth nodded, “Good.”

Dimitri sighed and upon removing the heaviest of his armor, sat beside Byleth on the ground, “How do you feel?”

“I am not in pain.”

“Emotionally, I mean. Are you… Okay? You've been through a lot.”

Byleth pulled a hand down his face, “I… I don't know.”

He wasn't surprised, Dimitri couldn't even begin to imagine what it must've been like, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Byleth shrugged, “You have questions?”

“Of course, I am sure everyone does,” he ran his knuckles along Byleth’s cheek, Byleth closed his eyes and leant into the touch, “But I will not push you to speak if you need time to process.”

“I met my mother,” Byleth began, “She… Looked a lot like me.”

Dimitri could imagine, though chose not to voice such. He knew Jeralt and his subsequent murder was still a sore spot for him, and likely would be for the rest of his life— However long that may be.

“I suppose it should have come as no surprise, though,” Byleth grunted.

“Tell me about her.”

“I did not know who she was at first,” Byleth rested a hand over his heart, “Like Sothis, a part of her remained in my crestone, even after Rhea took it from her and implanted it within me. I could never see or hear her, but she was still there, I guess.”

Dimitri moved his hand from Byleth’s cheek to around his shoulders.

“She told me a bit about my father, and of Rhea. She was upset, knowing what she had done.”

“Any mother would be.”

“She said she had always wanted to have children of her own, though Rhea had told her she would never be able to.”

“Because of her being Nabatean?”

Byleth shrugged, “That and her poor health, I suppose. Rhea had never told her the full extent of who she was, who she was supposed to be.”

_That_ surprised Dimitri, perhaps Rhea already knew her to be a lost cause, and did not bother.

“When she and my father married, they knew they’d never have children, or at least expected not to. Then, she became pregnant. She laughed when she told me this, apparently, my father had begun to panic. At first, she had been worried he did not want a child, though it wasn't the case, she learned. He was terrified he’d make a bad father, and at the time was attempting to take a crash-course in parenthood.

“She said she should have suspected something was wrong when Rhea did not share her joy. Instead, she did not believe my mother, at first. And when my mother had been proven correct, Rhea became overbearing, and barely let her from her sight. At the time, she had thought Rhea was worried for her, and wanted to be sure she’d be safe. She didn't know why Rhea had not told her the truth.”

“She knew you would have been born dead,” Dimitri frowned, “Rhea should have _told_ her.”

Byleth shrugged, “I do not know if it was Rhea’s attempt to spare her early heartache, or if perhaps she did not care enough, maybe something else entirely. It… It does not matter, in the end.”

Dimitri rubbed Byleth’s arm, he shared the sentiment.

His Beloved’s head was heavy when it rested on his shoulder, his fingers trembled where they sat in his lap, still clutching the food he had yet to touch. He swallowed audibly and spoke in a wavering whisper, “She said she loved me, and even if she had known what would have happened to her upon my birth, she would choose me every time. She… She said she was proud of me, and she was positive Father felt the same.”

Dimitri ran his fingers over Byleth’s head, brushing through the long strands that framed his face. He wondered if Byleth planned to keep his hair like this, or if he would cut it to a length more resembling what it was previously.

“I cannot speak for the late Captain,” Dimitri began, “But I am sure what she said is true. You are an incredible man, Byleth, though you may forget it. You have done so many wonderful and impossible things, helped _countless_ people, anyone would be proud to call you their son.”

“Thank you.”

Byleth was warm when Dimitri pressed his lips to the crown of his head, “Do you want something else to eat?”

“No,” Byleth seemed to have given up on eating entirely.

“You need to eat _something_ , Beloved.”

“I have, this is simply what is left.”

Dimitri, assured that Byleth ate at least a little, decided to drop that topic in favor of another, “Are you cold?”

“Some, it is not unbearable though.”

Even whilst still wearing his cloak, Dimitri was unsurprised the thin linen tunic Seteth had given him when they arrived back at camp was not enough to keep him warm. The ground was still frozen with snow, and while furs and blankets cushioned them from the hard earth, it didn't protect from the cold itself.

“I’ll see if I can find you something a bit warmer,” Dimitri started to remove his arm from around Byleth’s shoulders, but found a firm grip on his wrist kept it in place.

“I’m fine,” Byleth murmured, “Just stay, please.”

Dimitri pulled Byleth close to his side and rested his cheek on his pale locks, “Of course.”

There was a moment of hesitation, then as though a string had been cut, Byleth slumped fully against him. Dimitri rubbed his arm, soft circles against his bicep. He imagined the man to be exhausted.

“Let us get some rest,” Dimitri offered, “We’ll head back to Garreg Mach tomorrow.”

When he received no response from Byleth, he pulled away and brushed his fingers against Byleth’s cheeks. Dimitri pressed their foreheads together, “We can rebuild, Byleth. We have done it before.”

While Byleth’s nod was a bit hesitant, Dimitri accepted it, and brought his husband into a warm embrace.

“Thank you for coming back to me, to _us_.”

“When given the choice, I would every time,” Byleth’s grip was almost suffocating when he returned the hug in turn, “I love you.”

* * *

The monastery was eerie when silent.

Empty for all but those who only just began to file in through the front gate. At a glance, Garreg Mach seemed entirely unphased, though littered through the streets were various items, dropped in the panic. Mostly food, though the odd bit of knick-knacks decorated the cobblestone as well.

Even when Dimitri returned to the monastery, upon escaping Cornelia’s assassination attempt, it did not hold the same ghost-town feel to it as it currently did. Irony of the ghosts plaguing him notwithstanding.

As Dimitri had figured, the majority of Garreg Mach was fine. The halls were still in tact, though the further they went in, the more hints of something potentially catastrophic happening could be seen. Upon stepping out into the courtyard, the full brunt of the damage could be seen.

The Cathedral was in ruin, the building had collapsed entirely, nothing left but a pile of brick and broken glass. Some metal from the spires poked through the rubble, though were bent at such angles, even they would need to be entirely reformed.

Dimitri reached out to grab Byleth’s hand, and interlocked their fingers. There was a brief moment of wondering why his fingers had not grown back when his horns had, though the thought was washed away when Byleth spoke.

“I… Did that?”

“The blame is truly upon Serios,” Seteth sighed, “She should have known better.”

Byleth squeezed Dimitri’s hand, Dimitri returned the motion.

“It can be rebuilt,” Dedue spoke, “Though it will take time.”

Something Dedue said sparked some light in Seteth’s eyes, and he turned to Byleth, “You have absorbed my mo- ehm, Sothis’ magic, yes?”

Byleth shrugged.

“There is something I would like you to try, then,” Seteth gestured to the last remaining edge of the bridge, jutting out just barely a foot from the cliff.

With one last squeeze, Byleth released Dimitri’s hand and stood at Seteth’s side.

“It is something I had seen Sothis do before, when I was a boy. You can command the hands of time,” He explained, “As such, you can turn back time, similar to your Divine Pulse, though in a more concentrated manner. So you can apply it here to...”

“... _Divine Pulse_ the Cathedral,” Byleth finished, and frowned, “I have never tried such a feat.”

“I do not know how it is done myself, exactly, though I imagine it would pull from a similar source as the pulses you have used before.”

Byleth knelt down at the edge, frowning. Though nothing seemed to happen.

Dimitri’s head hurt, the longer Byleth sat there, the worse his sudden onset of vertigo begame. Even Dedue beside him, shifted his weight, and pressed a hand to his mouth, looking positively nauseous.

“Enough, enough,” Seteth spoke, largely unbothered, and patted Byleth’s shoulder.

His head shot up, Byleth looked several shades paler, sweat glistening on his brow. He blinked, and turned to glance over his shoulder, and something akin to guilt washed over his features, “Ah.”

“It was too much to ask of you so soon,” Seteth apologised, “You need rest above all else now. Tomorrow we will bring those in Remire back to the Monastery, and we can rebuild.”

Seteth patted his shoulder once more, then filed from the outcropping into the main building. One by one, the others followed until only Dimitri and Byleth remained. The worst of the nausea passed, so he strode to crouch beside his husband.

Dimitri rubbed his back, “You alright?”

“I’m tired,” Byleth admitted, “And frustrated.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Beloved. You only just gained this strength, you cannot be expected to have mastery over it. _Certainly_ not in less than a full day.”

“... I will need to master it soon,” Byleth grunted, “There is too much riding on it.”

Dimitri did not respond, even if he had wished to dispute it, he knew Byleth was not entirely wrong in his statement. Instead, he brushed his fingers over Byleth’s jaw, tilted his head up, and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He pulled back, though kept their foreheads pressed together, “You do not need to soldier the burden alone, I am here to support you in any way I can.”

Byleth smiled, “Thank you, Dima.”

“Come,” Dimitri rocked onto his heels and pushed himself upright, extending a hand down to his husband, “Let us get some rest.”

The hand that gripped him was warm, and once Byleth was steady, they made the trek upstairs. No one had been seen on the short trip up the flights, Dimitri wondered where everyone had gone. Perhaps they returned to their rooms, or perhaps they were taking some food from the mess hall. He imagined regardless what others decided to do, the rest of the night would be quiet.

Everyone was exhausted after all that transpired.

Byleth released his hand once they made it to their room. He shouldered off Dimitri’s cloak and with a wave of his hand, set the logs in the fireplace aflame, casting the room in a warm glow.

“Do you want something else to wear?” Dimitri inquired.

Byleth shook his head, “This is fine for now, after I cut my hair I plan to sleep.”

Ah, so he _would_ be getting rid of the length. Dimitri wasn't too surprised, it probably was quite heavy, given it was long enough to brush the floor as he walked.

Byleth pulled open one of the bottom drawers in the oak desk, retrieving a pair of simple scissors. They did not look terribly worn, probably only used for cutting paper or the like occasionally.

“Would you like some help?” he chuckled.

Despite how humorous it was to see Byleth attempt to break his spine turning every which way so he could see the back of his head in the small mirror they had, he imagined such attempts would grow old fast.

“And risk a haircut like you had back when you were a teen? I’ll pass.”

“I-It wasn't _that_ bad,” he squawked in a weak attempt to defend himself. Byleth’s laughter was all he needed to hear to know that yes, it probably had been _that_ bad.

In his defense, he did not have professional training in the matter, and certainly did not trust others enough to let them close with anything sharp back then.

Pride a bit hurt, Dimitri simply chose to sit on the edge of the bed and watch his love struggle. Byleth managed to contort himself just enough to see the mirror out the corner of his eye, and started cutting. Or well, tried to at least.

Byleth’s brows furrowed when despite clearly pressing the sharp blades into the pale locks, they held strong without any sign of damage. He brought the scissors to his hand and ran his thumb over one of the blades, then tried to cut his hair again, to no avail.

“I… May need your help,” Byleth confessed.

Dimitri chuckled, and stood to grab the scissors from his Beloved’s outstretched hand. He gathered the hair up and in a motion he had used before many times, snipped away at the troublesome hairs. Yet none fell loose. They weren't being cut.

“The scissors are not dull,” Dimitri commented, repeating the motion of running a finger over the blade. It bit into his skin, and had he pressed hard enough, easily would have drawn blood.

Then, a horrible thought occurred to him. Seteth had said they needed the lance crafted of his body to slay him, should the worst come to pass. Did that in turn mean only the lance could damage any part of him, hair included?

“What troubles you?” Byleth spoke, Dimitri met his eye through the mirror then glanced away.

“It is… A thought.”

“Do share.”

“After you had your crest stone removed, Seteth had brought the lance crafted from your body when you had been imprisoned. He had claimed it would be the only thing that could harm you.”

“... I see, so then, this lance may be all that could cut my hair?”

“I am unsure.”

Byleth tilted his head, with the slight pinch of his brow, Dimitri knew him to be thinking. What went through his mind? Was he disgusted at the very thought of using something born of torture to cut his hair? Was he considering actually _using_ it?

Dimitri’s answer came fast enough when Byleth asked, “Where is the weapon now?”

“Sylvain was the last I saw hold it, though likely Seteth or one of the others have it now.”

Byleth pushed the chair back with his heels and stood, “Then, let us go track him down.”

“Seriously?”

Byleth shrugged, and grabbed Dimitri’s cloak again, wrapping it around his body for warmth.

“Do you want yours instead?” Dimitri offered, and after a brief moment of hesitation, Byleth nodded and traded the oversized fur for the one crafted specifically for him.

Dimitri clasped his own around his shoulders, then pushed open the door for Byleth to pad out. The monastery was still eerily silent, save for the scuttle of cats and the odd whisper of voices here or there. Some remained awake still, it seemed. Even so, they met no one on their short journey to Seteth’s office.

The man wore very simple attire, a deep blue tunic cinched at the waist with a white sash with faded trousers tucked into traveling boots. He rose a brow when he turned to face them, “I am surprised to see you two not asleep.”

“Where is the lance?” Byleth inquired.

Seteth blinked, frowned, and eyed the pair of them, “Why?”

“I seek to cut my hair, and scissors are not working.”

“ _Cut_ your hair?” Seteth stammered, the open look of shock confused Dimitri, was it really so odd to do such a thing? Surely he had to cut his own hair, right?

“...Yes?”

Seteth coughed into his fist, “Right, yes. Of course, uh, apologies.”

The lance lent against the window, blade cushioned by decorative curtains that clung to the far wall. Seteth retrieved it, and handed the cursed weapon to Byleth.

“Prepare to make quite a habit of cutting your hair though,” Seteth warned, “The lance should be able to get the job done though.”

Dimitri found the whole prospect absolutely vile, but, if it was all that could shear Byleth’s hair, then, well, what other choice did they have?

Byleth accepted the lance without any hesitation, “Thank you.”

Without another word, he simply turned and left. Dimitri wondered if Byleth found the lance disgusting as well. He nodded at Seteth, then trotted after the man, already halfway up the stairs.

“Let us run a bath,” Byleth offered, when Dimitri nodded, instead of opening the door he stood at, he trotted further down the hall to the private baths Byleth had on the top floor.

Water, once again, was in the large washbasin, though this time did not seem heated. It seemed a bit stale, likely had been sitting there for when Byleth would have returned from the ritual, if things had gone how they were supposed to. Byleth hung his cloak up on one of the hooks near the entrance of the small room, shortly followed by the tunic.

Dimitri did much of the same while Byleth inspected the water.

When undressed, the water was at a rolling bubble, and Byleth seemed wary of it. He stopped Dimitri from getting any closer, “I heat it up too much, wait before you go in.”

Dimitri chuckled, “Do not worry, I don't plan to get cooked tonight.”

Byleth snorted a quiet laugh, and sat on the stool positioned beside the water basin. Dimitri helped him get his hair all behind him, and even enough to be cut with such a large unwieldy tool. Byleth positioned the lance beneath the sheet of pale green, and in a swift upward slice, cut through the hair as though it was not there at all.

The green pooled around Dimitri’s feet, then… Evaporated. Once each lock of hair fell to the ground, it would steam and disappear in white smoke. It reminded him a bit of how his scales and feathers vanished when he had transformed back into the more human-like body he had now.

Byleth watched the last of the smoke dissipate in the air between them, and frowned, “That's weird.”

Dimitri sputtered a laugh. Such an understatement, he felt, to describe all that had happened in just the last day.

Byleth tousled his hair, it bounced around his head as he shook it, though was surprisingly even given how it had been cut.

“Better,” Byleth decided, and set the lance off to the side.

He hovered his hand above the water, and some cold magic washed over the surface. After a pause, Byleth tested the water with his hand, hummed, and nodded to the tub, “Too warm?”

Dimitri dipped his fingers in, then the rest of the hand when he was not burned, “No, this is quite nice.”

Byleth nodded and stood from the stool, gestured for Dimitri to get in, and once he did, followed and sat opposite of him in the basin. It really was only built to hold a single person, their legs tangled up together, and Dimitri had to have one of them almost entirely out of the tub to make room, though once settled, it was surprisingly comfortable.

They sat in comfortable silence until Byleth spoke up, “Are you troubled?”

“Hm?”

“By all that happened, you keep asking if I am alright, but are you?”

Dimitri sighed and sunk further into the water, the back of his head cushioned by the rim of wood, “I… I am still processing, I think.”

“Do you want to talk? I will listen.”

“I should be the one offering _you_ that, Beloved,” he chuckled, perhaps a bit bitter, “You are the one who went through it. You were the one betrayed and nearly killed.”

“Do not act as though you are unaffected, Dimitri. You had to watch someone you love nearly destroy everything, nearly kill you and our friends.”

“You did not move to attack us at all, you were just _sitting there_ when Rhea fought you.”

Byleth frowned, “You're dodging.”

“I… Do not know how to feel right now,” Dimitri admitted, “I’m tired, Byleth. I don't want to keep fighting, I don't want to be scared for you constantly. I want you to be happy and healthy, and knowing that you haven't been for so long… Saddens me.”

Byleth nodded, so Dimitri continued.

“I killed Rhea. I carved open her chest and broke her crest stone clean in two. I hoped it would make me feel better, make me feel happy or justified, but now I just… I feel dirty.”

Byleth rested his hand over where Dimitri’s rested on the rim of the tub, “You are not a worse person for what you did, Dima.”

“I know, I did what was needed to protect us all. Yet…” Dimitri trailed off.

“I understand.”

Dimitri wondered if he truly did, if he knew what thoughts went through his mind when he learned of what she did. How he wanted her to suffer, how he wanted to torture her and make her _beg_ for the mercy of death. How he had all but attacked Seteth when he denied him his bloodthirst.

When he finally met Byleth’s eyes, he knew his Beloved understood. Byleth lifted Dimitri’s knuckles to his lips, and pressed a whisper of a kiss there, then turned his hand over to kiss his wrist.

“Healing takes time,” Byleth spoke, his fingers ran down Dimitri’s arm, washing it of lingering dirt, “Just because you may have relapsed, does not mean all you have worked for was useless. One step backward, two steps forward.”

Byleth rested his arm on the rim, then moved to washing his left leg, then his right. Dimitri started to stop him, to protest that Byleth was the one who needed comfort, who needed to be doted upon, but a sharp look stopped any movement he would have made. Byleth’s hands were gentle when they worked the dirt, remaining blood, and general grime off his body. The water sloshed as Byleth tucked his legs beneath himself to kneel and wash his chest, then neck, face, and hair.

By the time he was clean, Byleth was almost laying on his chest, their mouths a breath apart. It was embarrassing, the way Byleth cradled his face, swiping his thumb under his eye where water dripped down from his hair.

“I love you,” Byleth murmured against his lips.

“I love you too,” Dimitri closed the distance and brought Byleth down fully against his chest.

The kiss, for all the passion it held, was rather chaste in the end. Both of them far too tired to engage in eachother’s bodies any further. Byleth drained the water, and once dressed again, the two returned to their bedroom.

Byleth took Dimitri’s cloak and his own, hanging them both up in the closet, and without further words joined Dimitri in the bed they shared. Byleth stretched out and beckoned for Dimitri to rest his head upon his chest. Who was he to refuse?

It was a bit odd now, resting his cheek over Byleth’s heart. The gentle thump of each beat seemed almost deafening when compared to the silence that had once met him. Yet in its own right, it was comforting. Byleth’s hand running through his hair only brought Dimitri further into the cusp of sleep.

Finally, they were safe.

“Dima?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you, for all that you’ve done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DKNXDFCHGVJH OK-- So this was a very very long time coming, and as some of you may have noticed, there will be one more chapter! This is tbh because the final chapter was shaping up to be 50+ pages long, so with some input from some followers on my twitter, I decided to go ahead and split it in half!
> 
> So this is part 1 of the final. No idea when part 2 will be finished, but rest assured, it is being worked on! 
> 
> ((I'm also super behind on replying to comments, I appreciate each and every one of them thank you so much))
> 
> So as usual, I hope you all enjoyed the update, and I can not wait to finish up the final half and finish this behemoth of a story.
> 
> Feel free to come hang out on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/vulturepops) if ya like too!


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